


A Pirate's Tale

by Accidental_Ducky



Series: A Pirate's Tale [1]
Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies), Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-17 07:22:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 59,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2301290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Accidental_Ducky/pseuds/Accidental_Ducky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If there was something that could be done," Will starts, turning on his stool to face Carl and I," if we could bring him back somehow..."</p><p>"Would you do it," Tia interrupts as Will comes to sit next to me. “Would any of you be willing to sail past the ends of the Earth to fetch our witty Jack and him precious Pearl?" There was a chorus of ayes, one after the other speaking up until it was just me that had remained quiet. When I glance up from my shoes I find the remainder of our crew looking towards me, Will sitting next to me and pulling me against his chest in a comforting hug.</p><p>"I suppose," I murmur finally with a sniffle. “Someone's gotta take care of that dumbass and it might as well be us."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. CotBP: Everybody Was Pop Tart Fighting

—Katherine—

It was a terrifying thing to know people were after you, people you never realized could turn on you so quickly for so simple an object. Still, it's happening and I can't help but feel frustrated about the entire situation. Pushing my anxiety aside for the moment, I burst out of the hall closet and sprint for the front door only to be tackled in the living room.

"Terasa," the man shouts from the kitchen," hold her down!" Where his accented voice used to be comforting, now it was hard as stone and held an authoritative note.

"I'm working on it," Terasa snaps, sitting on my back and pinning me against the hardwood floor. "Give it to me, Katherine."

"No," I cried, struggling to get the stronger woman off of me. "Get off, you ass!"

"Katherine Diane Maxwell, you'll hand it over this instant." Her tone was the same stern one I used on my pre-school kids, one meant to force children to obey in that instant. Too bad for her that it doesn't work on stubborn twenty-two year olds!

"You guys don't even like this kind!" The man kneels in front of me, his dark green eyes locking with my brown ones as he holds out a hand expectantly. Carl was supposed to be on my side, not siding with a woman he can barely stand to be around. When exactly did I become the enemy?

"Kit," he implores quietly, using my nickname in the off chance that it'll soften my stance in this. "No one needs to get hurt here." I shake my head stubbornly, redoubling my efforts to escape. _Man, for Terasa to be the fit one of all of us, she weighs a ton!_  "Just give us the Pop-Tart."

"It's the last cherry one, so fuck off!" He gives Terasa a defeated look, inclining his head. Terasa adjusts herself on my back so that she's straddling me and then she had me in a headlock that I couldn't escape from. Of all the things my self-defense classes taught, escaping headlocks wasn't one of them. Bastards. "Alright, I give for Christ's sakes!" I throw the Pop-Tart across the room, watching in slight satisfaction as my roommates scramble after it in a mad dash to get there first. Laughing a little, I stand and brush my pants off before starting for the kitchen where we had pudding stored.

"You were wrong, Kit, this one's s'more!" I look at them over my shoulder, finding both of them sitting on the floor with the Pop-Tart split in half. "Where you goin'?"

"To get some pudding out of the kitchen."

"Chocolate?"

"That's the only kind we buy, dork." With a grin, I continue into the kitchen and open the refrigerator, rummaging around for where I usually store the last pudding cup and finding nothing. "One of y'all are going to be missing a few teeth! Who the hell ate my pudding?"

"That might have been me," Rasa admits, her and Carl coming in after me. "I was hungry and training really wore me out. You know how it is for us defenders of justice."

"You're a lawyer, Rasa, not Batman."

"Close enough, we both crush souls for a living and end up rich." She shrugs, nudging me aside and bringing out the chocolate pie I'd made yesterday and some whipped cream. "Get the plates and a butter knife, Kit."

—Terasa—

I take the knife from Katherine and begin to dish out the pies on the plates, trying my best to keep the slices even and around the same size to keep Carl from throwing a hissy fit. "Guys," Katherine says after a moment, gripping the edge of the counter hard enough to make her knuckles turn white," I don't feel so hot."

"Did one of those little snots you're teaching give you the flu," Carl asks in concern, moving closer to her as she begins to sway.

"I don't—" And then she was falling and Carl barely caught her before her head collided with the counter.

"Carl," I mumble, starting to feel a little dizzy and feverish. Before I can say anything else, I'm joining my friend in unconsciousness.

—Carl—

You never realize how heavy your friends are until you're left holding their dead weight, the three of us slowly sinking to the ground. "Why can't you both pass out at different times," I grumble, gently moving both women to the floor next to me. "Alright, ambulance." I try to stand only to fall back in shock as the bodies disappear, scrambling backwards against the wall. "Fuck's sake, what the hell is going on?!"

And then I was falling sideways to the hard floor, feeling cold then hot with aches that seemed to knock the air out of me.  _If this is how the others felt, then I don't see how they managed to stay conscious for so long!_  I let out a strangled gasp of pain, eyes rolling into the back of my head.

And then there was a flash of light and I felt the ground under me give way.

_**Meanwhile...** _

Calypso gives a little laugh to herself as she moves the three trinkets around on the board in front of her, rotted teeth showing as a portal opens up to allow her to see exactly what was going on. She needed those three back in their proper dimension for things to go according to plan. She watches with interest as the three adults chattered away in the kitchen, using her limited magic on the brunette woman before moving on to the black-haired one, and then the young man.

She knew the man and brunette woman well, having protected both of them when they were only sixteen years old until it was time to send them away. She had watched all three kids for a while, watched them grow up and get jobs, made sure they stayed close to each other for when this day came. And now it was time, and she smiled as they fell through the gap between worlds, the three adults coming back into consciousness only when they breached into the world Calypso resided in. Despite how serious the situation was, Calypso couldn't help the laugh that escaped when Katherine landed on the newly appointed Commodore, knocking him right into the dirt.

Yes, she would be good for the strict man and all three of them would help Calypso get her freedom back.

[Outfits](http://www.polyvore.com/pirates_tale/collection?id=4080135) [Katherine](http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/sites/default/files/2013/03/kacey_musgraves_pr_2013_p.jpg) [Carl](http://images4.fanpop.com/image/photos/19400000/KING-CASPIAN-ben-barnes-19403459-500-333.jpg) [Terasa](http://www.wallpapervortex.com/wallpaper-28966_amy_lee.html#.WUie6vnyvIU)


	2. I Shall Call Him Squishy

—Katherine—

A bright flash blinds me momentarily before I begin a free fall into more blackness. Thankfully I land on something soft and squishy that breaks my fall instead of me breaking my ass on the hard ground. Still aching and more than a little dazed, I don't move until I feel my cushion beginning to squirm beneath me. "Get her off of me," the squishy commands in a very male voice. 

 _Hold on, I know that voice_.

I squint up at an impossibly blue sky, my eyes slowly adjusting to the bright sunlight as a man helps me to my feet. The man looks to be around my dad's age—mid-fifties or so—and he's dressed in Victorian era clothing, made complete by a curly, gray wig and ostentatious hat.  _Why does he look so familiar?_ And then my eyes go wide, recognizing the old man a second later.

 _I sure hope I cracked my head open and this is just one weird hallucination_.

"Thanks," I mumble as I turn my gaze to the squishy. It was another man—albeit younger and far more attractive—brushing the dirt off his dark blue uniform before meeting my stare with a frown.  _Oh fuck, he's even more gorgeous in person_. Tall and muscular, though not ripped, with high cheekbones and a straight nose; his green eyes were olive green and he was tanned after years of working outside. It was Jack Davenport, all six feet of him, and I can feel mixed emotions hitting me hard. Should I be scared or horny? Because that gaze is accomplishing both of them. "Carl?"

"I'm here, Kit," Carl assures me, grasping my hand when he notices the way it's shaking. His Irish accent is more pronounced than usual due to the shock and his voice was shaky, something I wasn't used to associating with my brother. "Terasa, you here, too?" I can't take my eyes off the tall man standing in front of me as my heart beats faster, and Carl's question tells me he's having the same difficulty.

"Wish I wasn't," she states.

"Who are all of you," Jack Davenport demands, his thick brows drawn together over his eyes.  _Christ, that gaze is effective_. If we're where I think we are—the outfits are pretty telling on that part, at least—then he's James Norrington here. Why couldn't my hallucination center around a free vacation in Miami—not the one in Oklahoma preferably—with pool boys bringing me an endless supply of rum and cokes? Oh no, I had to draw the short straw.

Fucking fantastic.

"I'm," I start, having to try a few times to make the words come out. "I'm, uh, Katherine Maxwell, he's Carl McGee, and she's Terasa Sterling." The way he zeroed his gaze in on me had me swallowing audibly.  _Jesus, this is a serious situation, Kit, so stop imagining what the man would look like naked!_

"I thought he called you Kit." He seems to be having trouble comprehending that three people just fell out of the sky and I can't blame him for the suspicious looks he keeps sending our way. If a chick landed on me out of nowhere I'd be screaming Wicked Witch and looking for a bucket of water or a house to drop.

"It's a nickname." A slight obsession with  _American Girl_  earned me the nickname and a best friend; Terasa had tried to bully me because of it in second grade, which led to me punching her in the stomach and her twisting my arm behind my back. We've been inseparable ever since, though our parents weren't too happy when they got the call that their children were caught trying to murder each other.

"Yeah," Rasa chimes in," it was a tie between Kit and smartass." Norrington arches a brow at that, eyes flicking between my best friend and me. She notices his disbelieving look and lets out a snort, crossing her arms over her chest. "Trust me, once she's used to talking to you, she won't shut up." I roll my eyes, finally taking a moment to look around me while Norrignton focuses on Carl.

The road we're on is hard-packed dirt, busy as people hurry past us for the little stalls down the way; there were a few shops lining the street, but only one of them immediately caught my interest.  _Mother of God, that means_... I look to my right, taking in worn boots, frayed clothing, a red bandanna, and dreadlocks— _Captain Jack Sparrow_. Well, I can officially check meeting Johnny Depp off my bucket list.

"Hi," I greet with a shy smile, a blush lending color to my normally pale cheeks.

"Don't talk to the condemned," Norrington instructs with a disapproving look. "He's to be hanged tomorrow morning."  _Way to ruin the moment, Squishy_.

"Oh, then I guess this should be a goodbye." Jack just gives me a smile, sending me a wink that suggested I was in on his master plan. Norrington nods our way, two soldiers coming over to get a good hold on Rasa and Carl while Norrington wraps his long fingers around one of my arms.

"This sucks," Carl complains," haven't even been here ten minutes and we're already being arrested."

"It's definitely a new record." Instead of a comment about Carl's previous escapades with the law like I expected, Terasa lets out a flirty giggle. Surprised, I glance over at my friend, then follow her gaze until I spot Orlando Bloom. His brown eyes were fixed on Rasa, wide with a little smile playing on his lips. I raise my brows in surprise, looking back at Terasa again as Orlando walks away.

"Never thought I'd see Rasa drool over an Elf." Rasa lunges at him, but Mullroy catches her around the waist before her fist can connect with Carl's nose.

"Lock the women in a cell together," Norrington orders," the man can share a cell with Sparrow." I open my mouth to protest, but he narrows his eyes and the words evaporate before they even leave my tongue, a little squeak coming out instead. "I'll question the three of them after Sparrow's execution." My friends and I are secured with old-fashioned handcuffs and I'm handed off to the ginger menace. Er, Gillette.

We're led to a two-story building a few blocks away, the handcuffs removed once we were in the cells. Gillette ordered Mullroy and Murtogg to stand guard at the stairs in case we attempted rebellion, which was definitely possible. Not fond of jail cells—college flashbacks are something I could do without—I pull on the iron bars with no success. Last time I was in jail, my cellmate had been a hungover Carl, both of us arrested for keying his ex's car after she called him gutter trash. _At least he won't pass out and drool on me this time_.

My head throbbing, I collapse on the simple bench, massaging my temples and glaring at the door. "Hate to break it to you, Professor," Terasa jokes," but the only way glaring at the bars is gonna help us is if you're a closet Jedi."

"Or Sith," I counter.

"Nope, you would've had our history professor's head decorating your bedroom wall if you were a Sith."

“All too true.” As I sit and continue to glare, Terasa begins pacing for a lack of anything to do. It was a familiar routine, she used to do it during college when she was cramming for a test and it served to keep her awake enough to focus. I preferred good old fashion caffeine overdose, but I’m practical that way. After a few minutes, Rasa spins on her heel and grins at me. It wasn't a comforting grin either, it was the one she got after staying up for twelve hours because of homework or that time she was on weird meds that made her lose part of her sanity. _Not that she had much sanity to begin with._

"Say I'm a genius," she demands.

"Can I get a reason first?" With her black hair falling out of her braid and her blue eyes sparkling with excitement, she could almost pass for a basket case.

"I know how to get out of here." Skeptical, I rise from my spot on the bench and join her by the door of our cell. She whispers her plan in my ear, a plan that's finally simple and not something out of Mission Impossible. I nod along, facing the bars completely. Well, I guess they're not bars, they're made of iron and crisscross to form squares. "Mullroy!"

"Murtogg!"

"Yes," Murtogg asks as he and his friend approach us. I look around conspiratorially before beckoning them closer, the soldiers leaning in just enough for Terasa and I to grab the front of their uniforms and jerk them hard against the bars. One good yank was all it took to have them dazed on the ground, the tip of my tongue barely visible as I unhook the keys from Mullroy’s belt. It takes a minute, but I finally find the key for the cells, pushing our door open and stepping over the bodies.

"Damn we're good." Smiling, I unlock the door of the other cell, high-fiving Carl as he and Jack step out.

"What would you guys do without me," Rasa asks smugly, examining her nails, painted the same orange-red color as her tank top.

"Sleep peacefully without you reciting law definitions at two in the morning?" She swats at me but laughs all the same, unlocking the boys’ cell and leading the way to the stairs. Careful not to get caught, we make our way outside and stick to the shadowed areas. None of us really blended in with our surroundings, so it'd be easy for soldiers to spot us; Terasa dressed in a tank top and shorts that stopped mid-thigh, Carl in jeans and a Batman shirt, and me in jeans and a Superman shirt. Yeah, we're not exactly chameleons. In our defense, it was a Saturday and we didn’t exactly plan inter-dimensional travel.

Five minutes after our prison break, Jack takes off down another alley, but the three of us are forced to hide between barrels of God-knows-what and a stone building as a patrol marches past. That was too close for words, but we should be good now. Beside me, Terasa lets out a defeated sigh and rubs at her forehead.

"I have a feeling we've been caught."

"Why," I ask, eyebrows scrunched together as I watch the street through the space between two barrels. I hope she isn't saying that just because Will might be nearby and she wants to flirt. She could do her hair-flip technique later, but right now she really needs to focus on an escape route.

"Shall we call it common sense," inquires an accented voice from behind me.  _Oh, hell, can’t we catch just one break_? Slowly, I tilt my head back to look up at Norrington, trying to pull off an innocent expression. He raises an eyebrow, arms crossed over his chest as he stares down at me.

"How goes it, Squishy?" He makes a sound of annoyance and pulls me to my feet, gripping my arm tightly. _What an unhappy man_. While Norrington is focused on me, Carl kicks his leg as well as he can in the confined space, Norrington dropping back against the wall with a shout. "Holy shins, Batman!"

"Shut up, Kit," my brother grumbles as we start to run. It doesn't take me long to remember how out of shape I am, my lungs already beginning to burn. “Sis, we gotta move!” I send him a look, gripping my side and huffing as I try to keep up with the two athletes.

"Did one of you take my sword," Norrington snarls, quickly catching up to us.

"What was your first clue?" The sword in question was clutched in Carl's hand, glinting in the harsh sunlight. Squishy lets out a low growl and speeds up, but he stumbles and nearly loses his footing when we make a hard left. I snort, not paying attention to my surroundings until I run right into a wall.

"Oh, fuck me," I groan, sprawled out in the dirt and clutching my sore face.  _That wasn't a secret entrance to Hogsmeade, I can tell you that much_.

"Katherine!" I wave Carl off as an arrogant Norrington walks over to me. His eyes have a triumphant gleam in them, but he's about to find out how stubborn I can be.

 _Prepared to be annoyed, Squishy_.


	3. The Skeleton Crew

—Terasa—

"Where's Katherine," I ask, slowing down a little as Carl gets closer. He sends me a look, some of his shoulder-length hair falling across his face.

"She's swooning over that guy with the nose." Okay, that makes absolutely no sense whatsoever, but okay. Carl never has been the type to use details unless it was about the buck he'd shot or the fish he was going to have for dinner. "You know, that snotty fucker that threw us in jail."

"Norrington?"

"I don't know, but she goes all...  _Weird_  around him." _Weird_ here meaning that she shows genuine interest in the guy. I shake my head at Carl's less than happy expression, knowing firsthand how protective he is of our friend. They had adopted each other over the years, all too ready to defend each other if the situation called for it—and even when it didn’t sometimes.

"Good for her, she deserves to get laid."

"What makes you think that guy would pull the stick out of his ass?"

"If anyone can talk that man out of his clothes, then it's Kit."

"I really wish that wasn't so true." She can be persuasive when she put her mind to it, but not nearly as persuasive as I can be; hers is a conscious effort while mine is as natural as breathing. "Terasa stop!" Before I could stop, my feet hit loose gravel and I fall, forcing Carl down with me when I reach for him on instinct.

"They really thought they could get away," comes a grating voice behind us, preceding two sets of footsteps. With a scowl, I look up and spot Gillette with that infuriating sneer curling his lip. _I wonder what the consequences would be for punching a military man in the throat on grounds of irritation is_. Groves comes to stand next to him, looking a bit more sympathetic. "Up you get." Gillette grabs Carl roughly and hauls him to his feet while Groves just offers me his hand, pulling me up and helping to dust off the back of my shirt.

"Any reason in particular we're being thrown in cells?"

"Well, you did land on our superior officer," Groves points out with some amusement. "Most would take offense at that."

"Technically that was Kit and she wasn't exactly aiming for the man." Groves just shrugs and nudges me so that I’m walking in front of him, Carl walking beside me and grunting every now and then when Gillette prods him with the butt of his rifle. It takes around fifteen minutes or so to get back to the jail, my left knee throbbing and making me limp.  _You tear some ligaments in high school and it haunts you for the rest of your life_.

As we walk inside, Kit and Norrington's voices drift up the stairs. There is no moaning, so I guess that stick is still lodged firmly in place. "It's just exasperating," Kit says loudly, annoyance evident in her tone. What on earth are they arguing about that has Kit so worked up?

"It's one of the best ones," Norrington retorts as we're escorted down the stairs, his eyes alight with... What? Interest or agitation? With Katherine, those two emotions sometimes go hand in hand. "It has everything—romance, sword fighting, heartbreak."

"Yeah, if that's romantic, then  _Hamlet_  shows the perfect family dynamic." Sarcasm coated her words and the look she sent Norrington's way suggested he was dumber than a box of rocks. To his credit, Norrington didn't yell or smack her like I might have. "Come on, Squishy, just admit that  _Romeo and Juliet_  was disappointing."  _That explains it_ _. She still can't read that play without hearing our old classmate reading Romeo's lines with an obnoxious accent._

"She has a point," I chime in, grinning when Norrington jumps. He'd been so absorbed in his debate that he hadn't heard us coming down the stairs.

"Are you both completely mad," he questions as I'm locked up with Kit again and Carl is shoved into the cell next to ours. He throws himself against the door of it, Groves having to put all his weight against it so that Gillette can lock it. As for Norrington's question, Kit lets out a dark laugh and I can already hear her quoting Con Air, her favorite movie when the question of her sanity is brought up.

"According to my last psyche evaluation," she states as the other two soldiers walk out, Gillette returning the sword to Norrington," yes."

"Don't argue with her about book quality," Carl warns," you won't win, buddy." Norrington scoffs, sheathing his sword without even having to look at it.  _Neat_. "I'm just gonna go out on a limb here and say you haven't caught Jack yet." With an expression of utter contempt, Norrington turns on his heel and starts up the stairs.

"Squishy," Katherine calls after him, only continuing again when he looks at her over his shoulder," nice ass." A blush coloring his cheeks, he hurries off.

"I can't believe you actually said it," Jack says a moment later, stepping out of the shadows and passing Kit a fancy hat through the bars. It had to be almost crumpled to make it through, but they managed and Kit looked quite pleased with herself.

"I can't believe you didn't get caught." She straightens out the hat and puts it on her head, absently playing with the small, white feathers decorating the edges.

"Quick fingers." To emphasize his words, he wiggles all ten of his fingers with a grin.

"Whose is it," I ask, curiosity getting the best of me as I reach out a hand to touch the gold brocade around the edge. Jack gives me a wink, one corner of his mouth pulled up in a smirk that looks eerily familiar.

"You'll find that answer in a second, love." He returns to his hiding place seconds before Norrington comes charging back down the stairs, glaring at my friend.

"Oh, if looks could bruise." The Commodore ignores me entirely, holding out his hand and wiggling his long fingers in a  _gimme_ motion. To tell the truth, he looked like an impatient toddler that didn't want to share his toys.

"Give it to me, Maxwell," he demands sternly, like using her last name should scare her into handing over her prize. She just gives a stubborn shake of her head and an impish smile.

" _Por qué_ ," she asks, feigning innocence as she utters the only bit of Spanish she can remember.

"What?" I smile along with my friends at Norrington’s confused expression.

"No, why."  _Por qué_  actually means 'why' in English, so it was easy for high school freshmen to remember it. Norrington's face was slowly turning dark red in his anger. If he slips up and hits her, then he'd better be Pietro Maximoff in disguise because that cell won't be enough to hold Carl back. Growling, he grabs for the hat, but Katherine jumps backwards, letting out a playful giggle. "Come and get it." Now she's just taunting him for the fun of it.

"Hand it to me  _now_!" His raised voice makes Katherine flinch back like she expected to be hit. Suddenly she looked a thousand miles away, her breathing coming out in fast pants and her dark eyes filling with tears. Carl reaches through the bars in an attempt to strangle the soldier while Norrington just stares at Kit with a mixture of horror and realization. This has happened to her before, so I lead her to our bench and sit down on it beside her, hugging her while waiting for her to snap out of it.

Swallowing hard, Norrington unlocks and enters our cell, kneeling in front of Kit and gently cupping her face between his callused hands. "What kind of abuse," he asks without taking his eyes off her face. The sparse bit of color she had there has drained away, making her freckles stand out in stark relief.

"None," Carl answers, his hands shaking until he clenches them into fists at his sides. "This just happens when someone angry yells at her."

"She's having a flashback of severe trauma," Norrington snaps angrily, straining to keep his voice at a normal decibel. "Old memories are trying to come back to the surface and she's being forced to relive them."

"How the hell would you know?" Carl practically sneered the words, looking at the other man like he was little better than the mud caked on the soles of Carl's boots.

"Because it happened to me until I got it mostly under control." Norrington's voice cracks at the end and he winces. "Bad memories aren't easy to bury sometimes." Kit lets out a shuddering breath, slowly coming back even though she's more disoriented than usual. "It's alright," Norrington murmurs, gently helping her to her feet," you're safe, Miss Maxwell."

"What are you doing," I demand, rising to my feet so that the Commodore and I are nose to nose.

"I'm taking her to the best physician in Port Royal. Don't worry, I'll keep her from harm."

"And why should I trust you?" He didn't try to look down his nose at me or anything else that could be described as snobby, he just looked tired. I guess I can understand that, old memories of his own abuse and random people falling from the sky are enough to make anyone tired.

"Because..." He trails off for a moment, wrapping an arm around Kit's waist when she begins to sway a little. "Because I would never harm an innocent person and she seems as innocent as it gets."

"You take care of my sister," Carl tells him with a dark look," you keep her safe because all of the soldiers here couldn't keep me from killing you if something happens to her."

"You have my word."

—Three Days Later—

"... And this rash on the back of me neck's been bothering me—" Jack is, mercifully, cut off by the sound of a door shutting. Quick on his feet, he hides back in the shadows as Norrington comes down the stairs, two books in his hands. After extensive interrogations, our little trio was cleared of suspicion, but Norrington was making us spend one more day in jail as punishment for knocking two of his guards unconscious. Apparently that's frowned upon here.

"What a coincidence, we were just talkin' about you," I smile. Norrington doesn't comment on that, just giving me an amused look while passing Kit the books through the bars. "Anything good?"

" _Julius Caesar_ ," Norrington answers," and  _Hamlet_." I take one of the books from my friend, sitting back down on the bench to flip through the pages. As much as I love reading, Shakespeare has never been my favorite author; the man's a genius, but I prefer  _Lord of the Rings_  or  _A Tale of Two Cities_. "Does it meet your approval, Miss Sterling?" I grin up at him, snapping the book closed.

"I guess it'll fine for now."

"Mister McGee, are there any books you'd like to borrow?" Carl lets out a loud snore, wiggling on the bench in his cell until he falls off and wakes with a shout. Norrington and Kit share a smile as Carl looks around in a daze, making me cover my mouth to muffle the laughter. "I'm afraid I have some duties to attend to, but I will be back in an hour or so with fresh clothing."

"Alright," Kit nods with a smile," we'll see you then." She was still smiling after Norrington was gone, staring down at the book in her hands, but not really seeing it.

"Come now, sweetheart," Jack scolds lightly as he joins us again," don't go falling in love with a military man. They're all so dull and only want to talk about the weather or how many pirates they've killed."

"Got some experience with military men, Jack," Carl jokes upon noticing Kit's blush. "Any war stories to keep us entertained?" Jack gives him a devilish grin, dark eyes lighting up and his eyebrows rising up and down a few times.

"None that young ladies should be hearing. Although—"

"Read to us, Kit." He was still lying on the straw-strewn floor, arms under his head, though Kit wasn't much better off as she sat with her back against the wall and her knees drawn up to her chest. "And keep our shadow over there from telling tales that are better left in his twisted mind." I'd asked Jack yesterday why he hadn't run off by now, but he'd only replied that the jail was the last place people would look for him.

"It's getting too dark out," Kit replies, looking up at the barred window in Carl's cell that allowed moonlight inside," and the torchlight makes my eyes hurt." She tosses the book aside and a loud  _boom_  shakes the prison the instant  _Hamlet_  reaches the ground. "The fuck was that?!"

"I know those guns," Jack states, beginning to jump up and down in front of Carl's cell to see out the window. "What's that ship look like?" Still groggy, Carl moves to stand of the bench, peering out into the night.

"It's big, I guess," he reports," black hull, black sails that are torn to hell, and a lot of people pouring out."

"That's my ship! That bastard's still sailing around on my bloody ship! I'll shoot him for sure— What do you mean people are pouring out?" Carl shrugs, still watching the chaos unfold outside. I could hear more cannonballs hitting the fort and people screaming as they ran around outside.

"I mean just that; ugly men are sweeping through and raising hell as they go. Holy shit!" Carl falls backwards in fear of something, hitting the flagstones hard. My heart starts beating faster as terror sets in, blindly reaching out for Kit with shaking hands. She wasn't doing much better as she crossed the cell to hold my hand, letting out faint whimpers as she strained to see what was going on outside. "Skeleton army, they have a fucking  _skeleton army_!"

"Serves them right for what they did to me. I mean, what kind of heartless bastard would abandon lovable ol' me on a spit of an island?"  _Me, probably_. Jack gains a smug look until the back of Carl's cell seems to explode, debris and dust shooting everywhere.

"Christ on a stick!" I cough hard enough to make my throat sore, waving frantically with my free hand to clear the air near me so I can breathe easier.

"Fuck me," I breathe as two military men tumble down the stairs and land in heaps at the bottom, two pirates following them at a languid pace," can't we catch a break?"

"This ain't the armory," complains the white guy wearing a green beanie.  _Nice deduction, Sherlock_. I hold my breath as they glance around, reverting back to that childish logic that the monsters couldn't find me if I only had a blanket to hide under.  _Where's that damn dog with the keys when you need him?_

"Look at this, Twigg," says the black guy with dreadlocks," it's our old pal." Jack presses his back against the iron bars, eyeing the other two pirates warily. With them came the sour smell of old garbage and decay, the combination enough to make me dry heave. "Jack Sparrow."

"Captain," Jack corrects," I earned my title, Koehler." The guy frowns, eyes moving from Jack to Carl before they land on me. His eyes widen a bit, and his lips curve into a feral smile, making him look more like a monster than a man. Without hesitating, Kit stands half in front of me, her chin raised proudly in a silent way of telling them not to fuck with us. Just like the rest of us, Kit had a protective streak and once broke a girl's nose for spreading rumors about me. "Hasn't anyone ever told you that staring at people is rude? Etiquette, mate, you need to learn some."

"The Captain might be entertained if we brought her back again." The sentence made zero sense to me, but Twigg nodded in agreement and Jack's temper was set off. He leaps at them, fighting for all he's worth, but he's forced to his knees when Twigg delivers a hard punch to Jack's stomach. With him down, it was easy for them to open the cell door—using a stolen key from the guards—and throw Jack inside, Koehler stepping in next with his eyes firmly on me. He reaches out a hand to grab me, but Katherine slaps it away, not even flinching when his flesh turns to bone in the moonlight.

"Back off, Bonejangles," she snarls, getting in a fighting stance. "I may not be the world's greatest fighter, but I  _do_ go for blood." Despite her brave words, it's easy for Koehler to knock her back against the wall with enough force to drive the air from her lungs and then throw me over his shoulder before I had time to react. He walked out of the cell, Twigg shutting and locking the door as Kit throws herself against it, the goon following Koehler up the steps like an obedient puppy.

I struggle as hard as I can, wanting nothing more than to get my hands on some sort of weapon—a  _shoe_  would be fine at this point—as I bite, hit, and kick. "Let me go," I scream as we finally exit the jail. The last time I was outside was during the day when the sun was shining and people were going about their business; it was completely calm and nobody was in a hurry. Now, though, people were either running for their lives or fighting pirates, explosions knocking over half-completed structures, women screaming, and babies crying.

Port Royal is in anarchy.

Dust, smoke, and an unnatural fog hang heavy in the air, making it nearly impossible to see three feet in any direction, but my two captors somehow manage to get to a rowboat. Koehler drops me inside it, jumping in after me and keeping a knife pressed firmly under my chin as Twigg takes up the oars, rowing us over to the ominous black ship Carl had spotted earlier. Twigg is the one to help me over the railing, my white nightgown damn near making that impossible. Koehler follows next, followed soon after by two more pirates and another woman—Pintel, Ragetti, and Elizabeth Swann.

 _‘Two pirates and the Governor's daughter climb onto a ship’ if that's not the beginning of a bad joke, then I don't know what is_.

"Parlee," I say quickly as more pirates begin to board," uh, parsnip, peppermint?"

"Parley," Ragetti asks. I snap my fingers and point at him with a smile.

"Yeah, parley! I invoke the shit out of that, so don't boil me alive and eat my innards!" Heavy footsteps draw my attention away from the gathered pirates, my blue eyes landing on none other than Hector Barbossa. He looks as dumbfounded as the rest of the crew when he spots me, all the gawking making me shift uncomfortably from foot to foot.

"You're back," he murmurs, taking a step closer to me as I take two steps back. "You're all grown up."

"And you're creepy."

"You don't remember me, do you?"

"Remember what exactly?" The railing of the ship digs into my lower back, keeping me from retreating further as Barbossa comes a few steps closer. He looked tall on my TV screen, but he's a giant in person as he towers over me. Barbossa blinks and shakes his head as if trying to figure out a difficult puzzle. "Answer me!" Barbossa is silent for a few minutes before he finally begins to speak, blue irises standing out against the jaundiced whites of his eyes.

"You're my daughter." I can honestly say that Barbossa breaking out in a rendition of Barbie Girl would be less shocking than what he just said. He didn't look too happy with the fact either, like he'd just admitted that he had an STD or something. Fuzzy memories begin to come back, making my head hurt as they pick up speed and go out of order. Someone catches me as my legs give out, hefting me up in their arms as a wave of dizziness crashed into me.

It felt like the entire ship was spinning, darkness taking over my sight until unconsciousness finally claimed me.

* * *

When I open my eyes again, I realize all of this hasn't been some horrible dream. I'm still on a ship and Elizabeth Swann is tossing fitfully in the bed near my own, separated only by a nightstand.  _At least my head doesn't hurt anymore_. Standing, I pull a cloak out of the trunk on the floor at the foot of my bed and exit the cabin, wrapping the velvet around my shoulders as I approach the closest railing. It's still dark, but I'm nowhere near Port Royal, the full moon illuminating calm waters as far as I can see. The whole kidnapping incident aside, it's nice to breathe in fresh air and feel a light spray of water cooling my overheated skin.

I rest my hands on the swollen wood, closing my eyes and leaning my head back as a faint breeze starts up. It's quiet for a while and I'm able to relax until a presence behind me makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. "If you're trying to sneak up on me," I state quietly," then you're doing a poor job of it."  _I can smell you from here_.

"You always did like to come out here at night."  _Nice, my stalker is Barbie_. I don't open my eyes as he stands on my right, knowing he'd be in skeleton mode and I'm not sure I'm ready to wrap my head around that just yet.  _Can anyone ever be ready to face a skeleton in rotting clothes let alone have casual conversations with them? The answer to that is no, children_. "No matter how many times I told you not to, you'd still sneak out." Yeah, that does sound like me.

"How'd I get sent to the future?"

"It was an alternate reality," Barbossa corrects primly," and Calypso had just enough energy left to get you there safely." He lets out a heavy sigh and starts to walk away, boots loud as they hit the wooden deck. "Get some rest, brat, you're going to need it."

_Grinchy fucker._


	4. Prison Break

—Katherine—

After Rasa was taken, the rest of the night seemed to pass in a haze of gunfire and worried shouts. Groves came to check on us at some point, coming with bandages and questions.  _Is everyone okay? No missing limbs?_  He looked lost when he realized that Jack was in the cell instead of Terasa, no questions that time, just reassurances.  _We'll get her back, Katherine. Please stay in here until it's safe_.

So I stayed in the cell with Jack, pacing and biting the inside of my cheek as my anxiety levels soared to new highs. Norrington paid a brief visit after the pirates left, assuring all of us once more that Terasa would be found. He'd brought a fresh dress for me—simple, black with some white near the top, stopped around my ankles—and some clothes for Carl—black breeches, white shirt, black vest. Once Norrington had gone again I handed Jack a hairpin so he could go back to picking the lock of our cell with no success. He's nothing if not stubborn and I can admire that.

It's not until late the next morning that I hear more footsteps on the stairs—too light for Squishy, but not light enough for Groves. I know these footsteps all the same, the person they belong to having visited Terasa several times. Jack quickly shoves the pin under a bit of straw and lounges back on the ground with his kohl-lined eyes closed, the very picture of cool nonchalance. He was expecting another soldier, a taunt for his capture or a tray of what might have passed as food a century ago, and that's me being generous, but this visitor isn't dressed in a uniform with his hair hidden under a powdered wig or bound in a queue. This guy's wavy brown hair grazes his collar, brown eyes show everything he feels, strong shoulders are rolled back in determination, and his mouth is fixed into a frown, outlined by the beginnings of a goatee.

_Will Turner means business._

"Sparrow, are you familiar with that ship," Will asks, staring hard at Jack," with the  _Black Pearl_?"

"Nice to see you again, too," Jack returns, sitting up and straightening his rumpled shirt. "Come for ghost stories, lad?" I deliver a sharp slap to the back of his head, the pirate looking back at me with a pout. The look I send in return is one I've perfected over the years:  _tell the truth and I won't knock your head off your shoulders_. "Yes, I know a few things about the  _Pearl_." Good to know that look works on people other than Carl.

"Then where does it make berth?"

"Where does it make berth," Jack repeats in slight surprise. "Have you not heard the stories?" _Sorry, not everyone knows the secret places to put a ship in park_. "Captain Barbossa and his crew of miscreants sail from the dreaded Isla de Muerta. It's an island that cannot be found except by those who already know where it is."

"Isn't that handy," Carl mutters under his breath as Will picks up talking," stupid pirates and their damn dramatics."

"If you're quite finished." Jack sends Carl a look much like the one I'd sent him moments ago, but the only effect Jack's look has on Carl is an angry scoff. With a scoff of his own, Jack turns his head to look at Will again. "Why ask me where it is?" Like he wasn't interested in the slightest, he leans back on the ground, examining his blunt, chewed-on nails.

"Because you're a pirate," Will points out, eyes still trained on Jack.

"And you want to turn pirate yourself, is that it?"

" _Never_." He went quiet for a moment, one of his hands grasping the bars as he stares down at his shoes. "You know who they took." I tense, stopping my pacing to look his way. He looks as desperate as I do and I know that he'd do anything to keep Rasa safe.

"Well, there's no profit in it for me, so good luck rescuing her by yourself."

"He won't be by himself," I state, brain working double time," you and Carl will go with him to get her back."

"Last I checked you're not the boss of me."

"Do you like having all that hair on your head?" He nods hesitantly, sitting up to look at me better. "Then you'd damn well better help rescue my friend because I'll slap you bald if you don't!" Jack stares at me with wide eyes, mumbling something about nuns and bad genetics as he gets to his feet.

"Right, then, what are we waiting for?"

"Will, go track down that dog and get the keys."

"There's no need," he informs me smugly," these are half-pin barrel hinges, all we need is some leverage." He drags a nearby bench meant for visitors over to the door of our cell, wedging two of its legs between the bars, and pressing down on the opposite end until the door was lifted off its hinges with a horrifically loud screech. He did the same to Carl's cell, the iron sounding too loud as it hits the flagstones.

"Hold on," Jack says when everyone starts for the stairs," gotta get my affects."

"Are you coming with us," Carl asks, coming to my side as we watch Jack slide all his weapons in place.

"Someone has to explain all of this to Squishy," I shrug," might as well be me." Carl doesn't look happy to be leaving me behind, but he doesn't argue. "Take care of yourself out there, CJ."

"You too, sis." He hugs me tightly and it takes all my strength to keep the tears at bay. Judging by the way he tightened his hold on me even further, I'd say he's having the same problem since he isn't usually the crying type. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do." We've never been apart for a long time aside from college, so now I was hesitant to stay here and smooth things out.

"That's a short list." He snorts as he pulls back, cupping my face in his hands. "Both of you come back in one piece."

"I'll do my best." With one last look my way, he follows the others outside, old instincts making him walk on the balls of his feet to avoid making too much noise. I look around me at the mess, resting my hands on my hips once I was the only one down here.

"I'm so screwed."

* * *

"What do you mean the escape was your idea," Squishy asks in a sharp tone, his eyes pinning me in place as I stand in the middle of his small parlor. "You—"

"Could we save the arguments for after we find Rasa," I interrupt with raised brows. "I'm pretty sure the girl you want to marry is on that ship, too." His brows furrow and he looks like I just told him that I have a third eye, his mouth opening and closing a few times.

" _What?"_

"Elizabeth? You know, she's a pretty seventeen year old and happens to be the Governor's only daughter? I'm fairly sure you've met her at least once." He shakes his head, one hand on his hip while he raised the other to rub the back of his neck.  _Am I remembering things wrong?_  Bits and pieces—mostly names and the faces they belong to—are all I can remember from the movies, so I might be spit-balling here.

"At one point, I entertained the thought of marrying Miss Swann, but she's just a child."  _I'm not_. "I-I've found someone else I like much more since then."  _I'm a likable person; I love being liked, so feel free to like me_.  _Wow, even my thoughts are sounding desperate_ _._

"But you'll still go on a rescue mission?"

"Haven't you already sent three people off to complete that task?" He's smiling now and it's contagious, a soft laugh escaping me as I meet his gaze and butterflies start a fight club in my stomach.

"Yeah, but that's the crazy leading the stupid." Squishy laughs outright at that, nodding along in agreement.

"Very well, Miss Maxwell, I'll go after them."

" _We'll_  go after them. I'm not about to stay here when I could be saving my friend."

"Of course, Miss Maxwell."

"No arguing about why I shouldn't go? Threats of bad luck, locking me in the jail again, or just ordering a large person to sit on me until the ship is gone?"

"You'd only find a way to sneak on board."

 _Well, he's not wrong_.


	5. Turtle Island Recruits

—Carl—

Tortuga is filthy, filled to bursting with drunks and prostitutes, there's a foul smell that almost makes me gag, underneath the garbage smell is the scent of sulfur, and I'm pretty sure the guy slouched against the wall nearby is about as alive as the goldfish I had back in second grade. I love this place already.

"It is indeed a sad life," Jack was saying as he leads the way down bustling streets," that has never breathed deep the sweet, proliferous bouquet that is Tortuga. So, what do the two of you think thus far?"

"This is what I want Heaven to be like," I answer automatically, trying hard to take everything in. I probably looked like a kid locked inside a candy store, but I don't give a rat's ass about it when a prostitute walked by and gave me a wink. Sure, she wasn't that attractive, I prefer women with all their teeth and no diseases, but I've seen worse off ones just two blocks back the way we came. While I look amazed, Will looks like he was ready to get sick, the sight of half-dressed women alone making the other man uncomfortable.

 _His loss_.

"There's little chance I'll forget it," Will answers, mainly keeping his eyes on the ground as we come to a stop, a blush coloring his tanned cheeks whenever he catches the eye of a prostitute. Poor guy's probably never been laid before. Sex was something I enjoy whenever I can, it's nothing to be ashamed of and it keeps me content between assassinations. As my gaze moved around us, I spot a thin redhead coming our way, she might have been considered attractive if her lips weren't pursed together in a way that suggested she'd just bitten into something sour.

"Scarlett," Jack greets enthusiastically, meeting the redhead at a halfway point.

"She doesn't look happy."  _Just wait, I know that look_. As predicted, Scarlett slaps Jack's face with enough force that his head is rocked to the side as she pranced back to her group.

"Not sure I deserved that." He turns in time to face a blonde, prettier than the last girl but just as pissed. "Giselle." Same as the last one, Giselle slaps him across the face and walks off as well. "I may have deserved that."

"Considering that was almost the exact same look I got from Kit right before she slapped me last week," I remark," I'd say that you likely deserved it." Jack gives me a betrayed look, covering his heart with his hand before stalking off dramatically.

"Betrayed! Betrayed by everyone I thought I could trust." Will and I share an exasperated look before following after him, having to listen to him rant about betrayal the entire way to the bar. "Betrayed by my first mate and betrayed by cellmates, is there no one I can trust?" The bar we enter is one of the rowdier ones I've ever been in, a few men fighting in the middle of the large room, but most of the patrons talking loudly, drinking, or smoking, and sometimes a combination of all three.

“ _You can trust one of those angry guys in the corner to shiv your ass if you don't tone it down_ ,” I answer dryly, nodding towards said persons. They were the types you could almost count on to start trouble after a few beers. Jack shrugs my warning off, stopping several feet from the entrance. We weren’t close to the rougher crowd, but I still keep my eye on them just in case.

"There, you two,” Jack demands,” get some water for our friend."

"Is it clean," Will asks, staring uncertainly at the murky water that filled a barrel.

"Does it matter if he won't be drinking it?"

"I suppose not." Together, we fill two buckets and follow Jack over to a pigpen, finding a burly man sound asleep in the muck, his head resting on the fat belly of a pig. At least I haven't gotten that drunk yet, though I  _have_  passed out on an air mattress in the middle of a motel swimming pool. "Shall we?" I shrug, bringing my bucket back and then jerking it forward, most of its contents landing on the sleeping man. It must have been cold or something because I've never seen someone sit up so fast in my life, spluttering and cursing, flailing his arms to fend off more water.

"Jack," the man exclaims once he calms down and takes a good look at all of us," don't you know it's bad luck to wake a sleeping man?"

"It was all him, mate." Jack points my way and the other man's eyes widen briefly once they settle on me. It was similar to the look Twigg and Koehler had sent me in the prison, surprise mixed with familiarity. I don't like it one little bit. "He'll pay for our drinks."

"Do what now," I ask, spinning to look at Jack with raised brows. "I have rules when it comes to paying for people's drinks, they either have to be a cute co-ed, a nice stripper, or my sister because she gets scary when she slips into brat mode. Last I checked none of y'all fit that bill, so I ain't paying for shit." Plus, I'm broke as hell. Rolling his eyes, Jack leans forward and digs around in my vest pocket until he finds some coins, a satisfied smile settling on his face as he palms them. "Where the hell did those come from?"

"Norrington must have forgotten about them when he let you borrow the clothes, but I heard them jingling when we first got here." Will and the other guy had watched the exchange in silence and I hurriedly started checking all my pockets for anything else Norrington might have forgotten about, wandering away from the others. I keep walking until I find an empty table, taking a seat at it and dropping all of my found items on its surface; extra button, lint, some string, and a whistle.

_What the hell can I do with these?_

* * *

The men we're introduced to the next morning don't look capable of controlling a rowboat, let alone an actual ship. "So  _this_  is your able-bodied crew," Will inquires doubtfully, looking about as convinced as I am. Raising his chin a bit, Jack continues down the short line until he is standing in front of an old man with a colorful bird perched on his shoulder.

"You, sailor," Jack starts in a firm, military tone that reminded me of old John Wayne movies rather than pirates.

"Cotton," Gibbs provides.

"Mister Cotton, do you have the courage and fortitude to follow orders and stay true in the face of danger and almost certain death? Mister Cotton, answer me this instant!"

"Ya know," I say in amusement," you stamp your foot a little bit and you could almost pass for a six year old." Jack passes me a look that I know well and I hold my hands up in surrender. "I know, shut the hole under my nose, I got it."

"Mister Gibbs, why won't this man talk?" He gestures at Cotton, who proceeds in opening his mouth to show us he was minus a tongue.  _Ouch_. "Why did you hire a man that can't talk?"

"He trained the bird to do his talking," Gibbs answers.

"I gotta see this," I mutter with a smile, stepping up beside Jack to address the bird. "Alright, little guy, you think your buddy here wants to kick some skeleton ass?"

"Wind in your sails," it screeches, nodding its little head along," wind in your sails!"

"Okay, I don't care what you think, Jack, but this guy and his bird are staying with us. I'm gonna teach him some new words."

"So easily excited," Jack mumbles, waving his banana a little. "Where do you get that?"

"Everyone says I get it from my dad." He makes a face, bottom lip poking out and his brows furrowing over his dark eyes, shaking his head and waving his banana again. "You gonna wonder about my parentage all day or do you want to inspect the others?" Sticking his tongue out at me first, Jack starts walking again with Will and Gibbs trailing after him.

"'Are you gonna wonder about my parentage all day'," he repeats in a nasal tone, bobbing his head along, then under his breath," smartarse."

"What's in it for us," a voice calls from further down the line, feminine and higher than a man's. Stooping down to peer under the floppy hat, Jack smiles at the person that spoke, the type of smile I give a prospective lay.

"Anamaria." He grins fully, pulling the hat off and revealing the woman underneath, all dark colors and a killer slap if the way Jack's head jerks to the side is anything to go by.

"Remind me to stay on her good side," I whisper to the bird. She was hot even by my standards, all her teeth a pearly white, a bit bony from lack of food yet in shape, and she hits Jack, so I like her already.

"You stole my boat," she states angrily.

"Borrowed—" Another slap that had  _me_  feeling the sting of it. "Commandeered," Jack tries again, rubbing his jaw," commandeered and meant to return your boat."

"And yet it has not been returned!"

"I'll get you another one!"

"A better one," Will adds helpfully.

"Yes, a better one!"

" _That_  one." Will points at our stolen—er,  _commandeered_ —ship with a bright smile and Jack has no other option but to oblige. And that's why I look for self-esteem issues; guys like me are also why I try to keep my sister's self-esteem at a moderately high level so she isn't afraid to punch men like me. So far, so good.

"What say you?" Anamaria took a moment to consider it, eyeing the  _Interceptor_  floating in the waters before nodding her head in acceptance, followed by a chorus of 'aye'.

"But it's frightful bad luck to bring a woman aboard," Gibbs warns, looking more than uncomfortable at the thought of sharing a ship with Anamaria. I never did understand that superstition; women live longer than most men, so why wouldn't they bring good luck? Plus, Anamaria's ass is drool-worthy in those tight breeches she has on.

"Don't let Terasa hear you say that after we rescue her," I warn, patting Gibbs's shoulder," she'll gut you with her bare hands."


	6. Distressing Damsel

—Terasa—

Two mornings later find me glaring down at the corset on my bed, knowing all too well that it would hurt like a bitch to wear. All I want is shorts and a tank top, something to help with the oppressive Jamaican heat.  _And I thought that week in Louisiana was bad_. Just as I grabbed the corset with a resigned sigh, something lands on the bed almost like it had fallen out of thin air.  _Did I miss my Hogwarts letter?_

It's the only thing that explains the white shorts, dark blue tank top, sunglasses, and flip flops that are lying on top of my rumpled covers. "Holy hell, I'm magic," I breathe as a bra and fresh panties join the other clothes. I don't waste any time, dressing happily before putting my straight hair up in a bun. I don't know how the clothes got here, but I'm not giving this gift horse a dental exam.

Pulling on the shoes, I walk out on deck, stretching my arms above my head with a content groan. "How much longer," I call up to Barbie, the pirate rolling his eyes.

"We'll get there when we get there," he answers for what has to be the hundredth time in the past forty-eight hours. Enjoying the warm sunshine, I walk over to the ship's railing, spotting fish from time to time as I stare down at the sparkling waters. It was a perfect blue, not the kind you see in the future, beautiful and bright where the sunlight was reflected.

My stomach growling is what made me concede that it’s time for breakfast, reluctantly shooting the waters one last look before heading into Barbossa’s cabin. Platters of food were set out on the long table, Elizabeth already in there and nibbling at stale bread with a goblet of wine nearby.

"What on earth are you wearing," she asks as she gives my outfit a once-over. "It's absolutely scandalous."

"Scandalous it may well be, but at least I'm not baking under layers of petticoats." She was still in the burgundy dress Pintel and Ragetti had delivered our first night here, looking almost comically uncomfortable. I sit across from her, picking an apple to munch on since it was the only food that wasn't in the process of going bad. "I can get you something like this if you want."

"No thank you, I'd rather not have pirates leering at me." At least I offered, so her heat stroke won't eat at what little conscious I have left. I shrug, cutting off a piece of apple for the little Capuchin monkey that shared the cabin. He was a cute little guy with his own shirt and vest over dark brown and white fur, affectionate yet mischievous all the same. Almost made me want a monkey of my own.

Clouds rolled in a little while later, the comfortable breeze turning into a hard wind. "That's not ominous in the slightest." Elizabeth gets up and crosses the room to look out the window, rain beginning to fall heavily, drenching everything in seconds. "Suddenly, sweatpants seem like a safer option." A dizzy spell hits and I see double for a minute, and then gray sweats and a heavy jacket fall onto the chair next to mine.

"How did you—?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, Lizzie."

The rain lasts until early evening, lightening up until it was nothing more than a faint drizzle with lightning flashes appearing beyond the fog that surrounds the ship. Slowly, I can feel the ship slowing down and a bit later hear the splash of the anchor.  _We're here, but where is_ ** _here_** _exactly?_  Not long after we stop, a small group of pirates gather in the doorway, Pintel and Twigg the leaders as they stare us down.

"Are we finally leaving this damn ship," I ask, wincing at the foul smell that fills the cabin. "Fresh air will be nice after smelling you lot for the past week."

"Oi," Pintel says, offended," you don't exactly smell like roses."

"I still smell better than you." I push my way past them and up on deck, followed closely by Elizabeth with the pirates coming after her. No too far from here is the dark mouth of a cave, looking more like the mouth of the Alaskan Bull Worm from SpongeBob, just waiting to devour all of us.  _Damn cartoons_. I knew I should've stopped watching them when I got into college, but far be it for me to follow my own advice.

When I face the others again, Barbie is busy putting a necklace around Elizabeth's slim throat, the gold pirate coin standing out sharply against her pale flesh. It was strange watching this first hand when I was so used to viewing this from the safety of my couch, usually siding with the pirates since Elizabeth was annoying, but my how the tables have turned. I actually got along with the brat for the most part, though I suspect that has something to do with the fact that she's the only other woman on this damn ship.

Once the necklace was in place, we're led to a few skiffs, forced to sit in one with Barbie and two lackeys, whose only jobs were to row us into the cave. The cave itself was part of the larger island—a mostly dormant volcano, maybe—and the fog began to clear up enough for us to see the gold coins covering the sandy bottom beneath the water, glittering temptingly. I wanted to reach out and grab something, even if that was just a single coin that I could show off.

 _I've been to Treasure Island and you haven't_.

A few yards inside the dark cave, the water grows shallow and we're able to climb out, the henchmen pulling the boats up onto the shore so they don't float away while we're inside. The pirates are giddy as they run down a long passageway, lit torches in their hands that the dark rock seems to absorb. Elizabeth and I stick closely together until the passageway widens into a cavern, filled to bursting with all manner of treasures. Above everything was a large hole, allowing moonlight to fill the room, the natural, pale beams dulling the bright colors of silken fabrics and gold.

My breath catches in my throat as I take it all in, walking over to one of the piles and digging my hand into a small chest of diamonds. In the whole, I half-expected to hear the ringing of coins shifting and then the booming voice of a dragon.

_Well, thief! I smell you and I feel your air. I hear your breath. Come along! Help yourself again, there is plenty and to spare!_

I tune out the sounds of pirates shouting and throwing their treasure, focusing instead on the enormous pile in front of me; besides the diamonds there were silk parasols, ruby-encrusted rings, strings of flawless pearls, and thousands of gold pieces strewn throughout it all. With nimble fingers, I grab a tightly-woven basket from the ground and pile it full of rings, bracelets, daggers, and anything else that would fit, only stopping when a gunshot rings out and makes me wince.

I may have been raised around shit like this—even in the alternately reality—but the sound of gunfire never fails to make my ears ache for a second afterward. I look over my shoulder for the source of the noise, spotting all the pirates gathered around the stack of treasure in the center of the cavern, all staring at Pintel.

"You're not dead," Koehler says with an expression that suggested consternation; could've been constipation, but I was leaning more towards the former.

"No," Pintel agrees in relief, then his brows drew together and he glared at Barbossa," you shot me!"  _And Elizabeth's big plan is about to shrivel up and die_. Time for my grand exit, or not so grand since I don't want to be spotted. While the pirates focused on the blonde, I pick my way towards the exit, having to bite my lip to keep my shriek inside when a calloused hand drags me further into the shadows away from the others.

My first reaction was to struggle, but then I noticed that my captor wasn't being rough or attempting to take my basket. I pause, having to squint a little in the dim light to make out who was holding my arms.  _Will_. As handsome as ever, he was staring at me with something akin to pure delight and I could feel my heart skip a beat because of that.

"What the hell took you so long," I hiss, clutching my basket tighter against my side. "I've been with these Neanderthals for a week too long."

"Sorry," he apologizes quickly with a hint of a smile," I had to make a side-stop in Tortuga so I could get a crew." The loud crashing of jewels had both of us peaking around the corner, spotting Elizabeth lying unconscious. "Wait here while I go after her?"

"Do I have any other choice?" His smile widens and he gives me a wink before sneaking further into the room, having to swim his way to the bit of land in order to reach the distressed damsel. "Screw this, I'm finding a boat." I get five feet when I trip over something lying in the path, the basket flying out of my hands as I hit the rocky ground. "Mother—"

Scowling, I turn to glare at the offending object, head tilting to the side in confusion when I spot Jack.  _Leave it to him to fall asleep on the job_. And then Will and Elizabeth were running towards me, giving me enough time to pick up a handful of my fallen treasure before Will latches onto the back of my sweatshirt and yanks me after them. It took us a good seven minutes to get back to the boats and my heart was beating harshly from the unexpected exercise and the adrenaline of this entire adventure.

"Get in and I'll be back in second," Will instructs, walking around the other boats and gathering all of the oars from them before rejoining us in the chosen boat. "Alright, if the two of you are as satisfied as I am, then I see no reason why we can't leave. Everyone in favor?"

"Cut the shit and get to rowing," I answer dryly, shoving my jewels in my pocket.

"Right. You two do me a favor and toss these in the water when we're clear of this place." I take half the oars and Elizabeth takes the other half without a word, doing as we were told as Will rows us towards a ship anchored not too far from the  _Pearl_. It was lighter outside than it was before, though that could just be an effect of the thick, gray fog surrounding us. "Terasa, you go up first."

"I won't argue with that," I grab the ropes on the side of the ship once we're close enough, beginning the long climb up the side until I had a good hold on the railing to pull myself up and over, letting out a relieved sigh once my back hits the deck. There were at least half a dozen men staring down at me, an old man with a parrot helping me to my feet. "Cabin?"

"That way," says another old geezer with thick sideburns," just behind the stairs, missy."

"Great." I was breathing hard, just struggling to make it to the simple, wooden door behind the stairs that the old guy had indicated. "God, I so wouldn't survive a trip to Middle-Earth." Waiting for me on the other side of the door was Carl, dressed in jeans that hung loosely on his hips and a red Flash tee that hugged the toned muscles of his biceps. He was handsome, you'd either have to be blind or his sister not to notice, and there was a brief time when I would've swooned on the spot to see him sweaty and doing sit-ups like they were nothing, but now all I really noticed was the stench of sweat.

"Welcome aboard the  _Interceptor_ ," he greets with a bit of a grunt, wrapping his arms around his legs as he rested.

"Where's Kit?" It was strange seeing him without her nearby, made me feel uneasy. Carl shrugs and stands up, stretching his arms above his head and exposing a thin line of tanned skin and a trail of dark hair.

"She stayed behind to placate Norrington." That didn't sound much like her, but I doubt she'd be much use in a fight considering her asthma has horrible timing. "Are you..." He trails off as he tried to think of the right words. "They didn't hurt you, did they?"

"No, but your concern is touching." He rolls his eyes at my only half-sarcastic response, smiling all the same as he fell backwards onto the twin-sized bed, hands under his head. "How'd you get those clothes here?" He studies me leisurely, looking like a contented house cat watching its owner scrambling around the house.

"Same way you got yours probably. I've been able to summon things fairly easily since we changed realities."

"And you didn't think to  _tell_  anyone? Wait a second, how long have you known about the Star Trek shit that happened to us?" If he's known all along, then I might just strangle him with my bare hands.

"I told Kit about the mystical mumbo jumbo when we turned seventeen, but the Star Trek Shit, as you so elegantly put it, is recent knowledge. Nice to know Kit and I aren't the only ones able to summon things, though, it'll be a weight off her chest to be able to talk to you about it now." Yeah, Kit really had a hard time keeping secrets from me sometimes; came in useful when Carl was planning to shove my head in my cake when I turned twenty-one. "You should get out of those clothes before you catch pneumonia."

"And chance you sneaking a look at my boobs? No thanks, buddy."

"Oh please, I have more class than that." As if to prove his point, he rolls onto his stomach and puts the fluffy pillow over his head, holding it in place with his hands. "Hurry up before I suffocate!" Oh, that would take care of so many annoying moments, but it would also put a wrench in my friendship with Katherine. For someone so short and chunky, she was also a Scorpio and could be terrifying when she wanted to be.

Making sure he really wasn't looking, I focus on an image of what I want, picturing a pair of loose, black jeans that would be easy to slide on, running shoes, and a teal shirt that was baggy with quarter-inch sleeves. They appeared in my outstretched hands a moment later, the same dizziness from last time making me sway on my feet until I opened my eyes and steadied myself.

I dress quickly, fixing my hair back into a bun before I clear my throat as a signal for Carl to come out of hiding. "Do you feel kind of sick when you do this?" I sit on the edge of the bed next to him, still feeling off.

"In the beginning," he nods, running a hand through his shaggy hair. It was straight and dark brown, barely brushing the collar of his shirt, and my fingers itched to braid part of it. "Now I hardly feel a thing except some dizziness from time to time." I nod to show I was listening, having trouble keeping my eyes open. I never got much sleep when I was a captive, too worried about someone stabbing me while I slept, and now I was really starting to feel it.

"Only one bed," I mumble, looking around the cabin. It was cramped, barely enough room for the bed, a desk, a chair, and a nightstand. Definitely no room for pacing or even a pallet to sleep on.

"We'll share this one."

"Like  _hell_  we will." I give him a distrustful look as he sits up, tensing in case I have to hit him for something. That's how our relationship worked, we fought over things, Kit made us apologize, and then we snapped at each other until another fight broke out. "I'll just stay awake, I'm not that tired."

"Horseshit, you're exhausted and you're going to lie down right this instant." I scoff at him, crossing my arms and raising my chin stubbornly. Instead of just pushing me off the bed like I expected, Carl lays a hand on my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. "Rasa, I really don't want to fight tonight, so can we call a truce until we're back with Kit?" I look over at him again, noticing the circles under his eyes and the slight tremor in his hands.

"How long has it been since you slept right?"

"Since we first landed here." Jesus, all those hours of him lying completely still in his cell and he wasn't actually sleeping? No wonder he looked like a slight wind could knock him off his feet. "Come on, I've been told I'm a great person to cuddle with." Too tired to argue anymore, I maneuver on the mattress until I was lying on my side next to Carl, one of my arms around his waist and my head on his chest while one of his arms went around my shoulders to hold me securely against him.

"You're warm." He hums in response, eyes closed as I stare up at him. I could hear his heart beating strongly, feel his muscles completely relaxing, his breathing evening out as the stress left his face; it was strange seeing him so totally vulnerable around me. "Do you think Katherine's okay?"

"She'll be fine, I taught her how to kill a man seven different ways using only a paperclip and some string."

"But what if something happ—"

"Go to  _sleep_ , Rasa."

* * *

It seemed like I was only asleep for a few minutes when the sudden lurching of the ship sent Carl and I rolling out of bed and to the floor. Cursing in Gaelic and the first to recover from the fall, Carl gets to his feet and slams the cabin door open, disappearing outside while I scrambled to my feet. My head was still foggy from sleep and my shoulder was throbbing since I landed on it wrong.

I barely managed to get to the desk across the room when Carl came back inside with a grim expression.

"Bad news," I ask uncertainly when his eyes meet mine.

"Very bad," he confirms, shutting the door," Barbossa's catching up to us and Will has asked me to keep you safe when or if the pirates board, so shall we barricade this door like there's no tomorrow?"

"That would be a fantastic idea if we actually had anything to use as a barricade."

"Help me with the desk." He moves to one side to push it while I stayed where I was to pull it, though it didn't budge no matter how hard we tried to make it do otherwise. Some asshat had nailed this bitch in place and it wasn't going anywhere. "Fucking hell, whose idea was it to nail furniture to the ground?"

"Best Western?" He actually laughs at that, breathless and barely there, but it was a laugh nonetheless. "It doesn't matter, plan number one just failed hard, so I hope you have another one." He pauses, running a hand along his jaw as he looked around the cabin. "Come on, you're supposed to be the assassin here, so find us a place to hide!" He looked legitimately startled when I called him out, giving me a deer-in-the-headlights stare.

" _What_?"

"I’ve known you most of my life, Carl Jason McGee, did you really think I wouldn't put all those pieces together? Now I know you have to be good at hiding or you would've been caught by now, so do your damn job!" Still shocked at the big reveal, he closes his eyes and begins to mumble to himself. I was just about to yell at him to think faster when his eyes snap open again.

"Crow's nest!"

"Do what?"

"Just come on!" He grabs my wrist and pulls me after him, pushing through the chaos and holding tightly to anything he can get a hand on when cannonballs rock the ship. "No matter what, keep your mouth shut when we're boarded."

"Aren't you optimistic today?" He doesn't reply, stopping at one of the masts and pushing me in front of him as the  _Pearl_  gains ground—er, water. My muscles protesting already, I start up the swaying rope ladder, keeping my gaze focused on the rounded outline of my goal, nearly halfway up when the ship is rocked again. I couldn't help the terrified scream that escapes as the rope ladder swings away from the mast, taking me out with it. I clung to it fastidiously, until it calmed down enough for me to start climbing again, going as fast as possible without falling.

By the time I reached the top and climbed into the nest, my palms and the insides of my fingers were an angry red, the rope burns stinging worse than anything I've felt in a while. "Stay down!" I curl up into a ball, listening to the chaos below, the panicked shouts and commands echoing loudly.

"It's fine," I breathe, squeezing my eyes closed," it's fine, we'll win. Good guys always win, nothing will happen." It was like a mantra for five minutes straight, repeating the words over and over until I heard a sharp  _crack_  followed by the sound of splintering wood, then my safe place was toppling over, giving me barely enough time to jump out right before it shatters against the deck. I couldn't breathe, trying desperately to suck in air only to have my chest contract before I was able, my back and shoulders throbbing painfully.

 _Am I going to die?_  

My panicked gasping speeds up at the thought of dying, entire body beginning to shake, and my eyes searching for anything that would offer comfort. Instead of Carl's cheeky grin or Will's kind gaze, I find Barbossa standing over me, little Jack on his shoulder and screeching loudly down at me.

"Welcome back, Terasa," he says with a smug grin. "Get up." He grabs me roughly and hauls me to my feet, only making my aches more pronounced as he pushes me against the railing, a hand in my hair to keep me upright. "Where's the medallion?"

"Fuck if I know," I gasp, able to breathe a little easier now. "I'm not the one that had it, you dick!" I kick out at him, trying hard to push the pain to the back of my mind until he backhanded me and sent me to the ground. Slowly, the  _Interceptor's_  crew are herded aboard Barbossa's ship, Carl immediately helping me up and wrapping an arm around my waist when my legs try to give out.

"I've got you," he says quietly as a rope is wound around our group," don't worry."

"Why are you being so nice all of a sudden? It's unnatural."

"Hey, I'm a nice goddamn person, and someone has to look after your ass around here."

"Will does just fine."  _Speaking of_. I look around as Pintel begins a speech on what would happen if we even think the word  _parley_ , but I can't find even an inch of the guy I had a crush on. "Where is he, Carl? Where's my man?"

"Y'know, that's a good question. I think we may have left him behind."

" _You lost a fully-grown man_?" He shrugs, not even having the good sense to look a little guilty, giving me one of those  _did you really expect anything different_  looks that he does so well. I could kill him right now, barehanded; use the rope binding us all together to strangle his ass.

"Now, before you try and murder me, just remember that he could've survived and is currently hiding somewhere." Not ten seconds after those words left Carl's mouth, the  _Interceptor_  is blown to pieces, sinking quickly. "Okay, so maybe he's dead."

"Untie me," I scream furiously," I'm going to murder this bastard and I'll need some room to get creative!" I start pummeling Carl wherever I can, only stopping when I hear a familiar voice shouting my sperm donor's name.

"He's alive, so will you stop bruising my arm?!" Will is soaking wet from swimming all the way over here, grabbing a gun from one of the dazed pirates and pointing it at Barbossa, the steely resolve in his brown eyes making my knees weak all over again.

"The girls go free," Will demands without even looking our way. Barbossa fearlessly walks up to Will, not paying much attention to the pistol trained between his eyes.

"Ye can't kill me boy," he points out. Will gains a contemplative expression before climbing back up on the railing, one hand holding onto a loose rope to keep from toppling backwards into shark-infested water, and the other training his pistol under his chin.

"But I can kill myself and you have urgent need to keep me alive."

"Who are you?"

"A raving lunatic," Carl informs everyone loudly," I swear that man ain't got the brains God gave a rock." Will speaks up while completely ignoring Carl, cutting his gaze in my direction for the briefest of moments before staring the pirate down.

"My name is William Turner," he proclaims boldly and I close my eyes.  _He really is dumber than absolute shit_. "My father was Bootstrap Bill Turner, his blood runs in my veins." Barbossa stared at Will in silence, blue eyes moving from his head all the way to his scuffed boots and back up again, taking in every scrap of detail he was able to.

"What are yer terms, Master Turner," he asks finally.

"The girls go free!"

"Yes, I've got that. Anything else?" I nod towards Carl when Will meets my gaze again, knowing that if I left Carl behind to be killed by pirates that Kit would never forgive me. She does this thing where she gives you a disappointed look and you feel like the lowest piece of filth in the galaxy. "Carl's to go with them and the crew is not to be harmed."

"Agreed." Barbossa nods and two pirates man-handle Will down from the railing, a third one yanking the gun out of his hand before he could do any damage to himself. "Terasa, you can have the pleasure of walking the plank first."

"Barbossa, you lying bastard, you said they'd go free!"

"Aye, but I never specified when or where, lad." He grabs the front of my shirt and pushes me towards the simple plank of wood. "Go on, then!" Shaking, I climb up onto the plank to avoid getting shanked by one of the sword-happy pirates, sneering at Barbossa as I walk backwards to the edge.

"Just for the record," I state, trying hard to keep myself balanced," worst father of the year award goes to you."

"And I'll be happy to claim it." Swallowing hard and mustering what little dignity I have left, I turn and dive into the crystal-clear waters, relying on the years I spent in swimming lessons to keep me afloat in the middle of the Caribbean. I break the surface with a gasp in time to see Carl do a cannonball, coming up with a shout of excitement or fear.

"Island?"

"Sounds good," Carl nods, both of us doing our best to support the other as we swim towards the island that's a good hundred yards away, if not more. "Rasa, your dad is a massive asshole."

"You're tellin' me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Well, thief! I smell you and I feel your air. I hear your breath. Come along! Help yourself again, there is plenty and to spare!"—Smaug, The Hobbit, Chapter XII, Page 222.


	7. Dangerous Fingers

—James—

After nearly a week and a half on the same ship as Katherine Maxwell, James was still surprised by the way she was able to maneuver around without much trouble. It was like she'd been on ships all her life, expertly twining her way past sailors even when she wasn't paying much attention to where she was going, all bubbling energy and bright smiles for everyone except Gillette.

He would often hear her singing softly under her breath, the words unfamiliar to him, but her voice was different when she sang, a sort of soft yet confident quality. Mothering? He couldn't think of a better way to describe it, it was like when a mother would sing their child a lullaby and he often found himself adjusting his schedule to be around the younger woman more.

She noticed it, of course she did, but she didn't comment on his behavior and only continued her soft singing as she looked out on the waters of the Caribbean. Such longing in her dark eyes that made his heart ache for her, it almost seemed like she wanted to jump overboard and swim. That's ridiculous, though, most people couldn't swim and she'd told him herself that she was able to do little more than dog-paddle.

At the moment, Katherine was at the stern, hands on the railing and her head tilted back. He knew what she was doing; she was enjoying the spray of the water, the soft breeze that had her long hair blowing across bared shoulders. That was another thing that made her stand out against all the men in uniforms, her clothes were scandalous and completely her. What she wore today was a pink number that stopped above her knees, the piece that kept her breasts and upper back covered is black and white colors in strange patterns. She still wore the black, flat-soled shoes she came here in, and strange spectacles that she called 'sunglasses.'

He didn't much care for those, he liked the way her brown eyes showed everything she felt, the way they glittered when she gave him one of her big grins, a bit on the silly side, but he loved them all the same. No one ever gave James a smile like that before, he was too strict and women only looked at him as a prize to be obtained as he continued to rise in His Majesty's Royal Navy.

He shakes his head a little as he stands beside her, able to make out the soft lilting sounds of her singing, just barely loud enough to be heard. He closed his eyes as well, listening to her and wondering if his own mother had ever sung to him with such emotion. " _Mother cannot guide you_ ," she sings softly without opening her eyes,"  _now you're on your own. Only me beside you, still, you're not alone. No one is alone, truly, no one is alone. Mother isn't here now, who knows what she'd say? Nothing's quite so clear now. Feel you've lost your way? You are not alone..._ "

"Why'd you stop," James murmurs, slowly opening his eyes to look at her. She was so short compared to him, the top of her head barely reaching his chest, but her attitude could make her appear much larger. She had her spectacles up on her head now, her head tilted to the side as she stared up at him, the type of stare that made him feel like she was reading his thoughts.

"I don't want to make your ears bleed," she returns with one of those shy smiles. "I've heard that's bad etiquette."

"Trust me, I prefer you to be singing than my men." She laughs at that, bringing up a hand to cover her mouth as though she was embarrassed about something. Did she not like her smile? James did, it was cute like the rest of her, spunky. "You have a beautiful singing voice, Miss Maxwell."

"Kit, the people I like call me Kit."  _Kit_. It was what baby foxes were called, wasn't it? It made him think of the color of their fur, which then made him think of the bits of dark red that showed up in Katherine's hair whenever she was in direct sunlight. "And you don't have to play kiss-ass, Commodore, I know my singing isn't that great."  _So self-conscious sometimes yet confident at others._  It was almost enough to make his head spin.

"I wouldn't lie to you, Kit." The teasing gleam left her eyes and he could see the doubt in them. "Please..." He takes a deep breath before doing what he's been itching to do since their debate on that first day. His hands strangely unsteady, he cups her face and bends down until his lips were less than a hair’s breadth from hers. Her hands came up to rest on his back and he felt her breath on his lips, praying for her to close the distance and not leave him embarrassed.

"Oh my God," she breathed, pulling back slightly.

"I was rather hoping to have that reaction after the kiss," he tried to joke, but grew serious when he opened his eyes again. She was focused on something over his shoulder and he turned to see what it was, his hands dropping to his sides when he spots bright flames on a beach and three silhouetted forms sitting near it. "Is that...?"

"I'd bet my left foot on it." With another of her bright smiles, she goes up on her toes to place a kiss on his lips, nipping at the bottom one just hard enough for him to feel it before she was dashing off, shouting orders to turn the ship towards the small island.

"Such horrible timing." With a sigh, he follows after her, bellowing out orders for a boat to be made ready, then assisting Kit inside it before climbing in himself. Groves and Gillette climb in as well to work the oars, then they're all lowered to the water with Kit at the front, waving excitedly at who are presumed to be her friends. Behind them, another boat is lowered into the water to accommodate everyone on the island ahead of them, an island which grows larger the closer they come to it.

Standing on the beach ahead of them is Miss Sterling, the Governor's daughter, and Mister McGee, the latter of which is jumping up and down yelling greetings to Kit. Norrington held out hope that Kit would behave as expected of her, but she was out of the boat the second the water grew shallow, ruining her shoes as she ran over to her friends and hugged them both tightly, all three of them falling to the white sand and giggling.

He couldn’t help but smile at the sound of Kit's laugh, glad that she was with her friends again after a week spent worrying and pacing her cabin. "I trust you're all alright," Norrington asks as he joins them, standing stiffly with his hands clasped behind his back. He was the picture of cool elegance, but it didn't last when Kit got up and ran over to him, forcing him into a gleeful hug.

"Thank you," she tells him once she lets go, lightly gripping the lapels of his uniform while she stared up at him with unabashed happiness.

"I'd do anything to see that smile, Kit." She blushes and lowers her gaze to their feet, biting her lower lip again. She did that whenever she was nervous, stressed, or embarrassed, and Norrington was just beginning to wonder what she would do if he kissed her when a shout makes them all look to the left. Jack Sparrow was making his way towards them, swaying slightly with his eyes focused entirely on Norrington. The look would make lesser men shudder in fear, but Norrington only straightened and rested a protective hand on the small of Katherine's back.

"Fantastic," Sparrow muttered as he passed them and got in a boat," now the Commodore's falling for her. Life is just perfect." His tone held a bitter note and he looked less than thrilled to see Katherine anywhere near Norrington, but he simply put that down to Sparrow not liking naval officers of any kind. "Are we going to the big boat or not, Norrington?"

"What's with his sour mood," Kit asked her friends as they clambered into a boat together, leaving Norrington to work the oars while Elizabeth got in the same boat as Jack and the other officers.

"Blondie over there burned the liquor," Carl explains, his tone suggesting Elizabeth had destroyed an entire town instead of just rum.

"Oh, you poor babies."

"I'm still hungover, so keep the 'poor babies' to a whisper." Katherine's lips press into a thin line and Norrington has to disguise his laugh as a cough when the woman grabs Carl's ear, pressing it between two of her nails until his squirming caused the boat to rock dangerously. "Okay, I'm sorry! I'll never touch another drop. I swear to God!"

"There's a good boy." It was frightening how quickly she changed back to her usual bubbly self and Norrington made a mental note to stay on her good side. "So, how was your week as a prisoner?" Miss Sterling gives her a look that speaks volumes of how much she wants the subject to drop, though it doesn't stop her from uttering complaint after complaint all the way back to the ship. In fact, she was still complaining loudly as she was helped over the railing.

"... And then he made me walk the plank," she shouted, throwing her hands in the air," can you believe that?"

"Well, he is a pirate."

"Yeah, a pirate that has my boyfriend." She whirls on Norrington and only his years spent with his father kept him from jumping behind Katherine in fright. Miss Sterling was a whole foot and a half taller than Katherine and she was angry enough to punch anyone that gave her news she didn't like. "A boyfriend you're going to help me get back if you want to keep walking!" She pointed a finger at him and he was convinced she could do some real damage with it.

"Miss Sterling," Norrington starts only to have her jab her finger against his chest.

"You listen to me, you pompous little  _rat_ , you are going to gather a team of men, you are going to get in a boat, and you are going to get my boyfriend back here safely, or you won't like where I shove your sword,  _hilt first_." Norrington's eyes widen in surprise and he takes half a step back with a cough. "Get on it, Commodore."

"Do you honestly think that's so easy?" It was Kit's turn to step up this time, resting a hand on her friend's shoulder before facing him with a sweet smile. "Katherine, surely you can get through to her—" He's cut off when she raises a finger of her own, and he couldn't believe that he was scared of a damn finger. Instead of jabbing him in the chest, she uses her finger to trace the shiny buttons of his coat, her lips slightly pursed as she looked up at him through her lashes.

"Will you do it for me, James," she asks, using that tone that had him biting his tongue to keep a groan from leaving him. "We've come so far already, so what's one more rescue mission?" The crew were beginning to stare, so he took her by her elbow and led her to his cabin, making sure the door was shut firmly before he faced her again. "You like me, don't you?"

"Do you think you'd be on my ship if I didn't?"

"Good, I like you, too." She placed her hands on his shoulders and rose up on her toes so she could press her lips against his. Every bit of propriety demanded James take a step back or at least protest her intrusion of his personal space, but James found himself wrapping his arm around her waist to pull her closer, the fingers of his free hand tangling themselves in her thick hair. She tasted as sweet as he imagined, like chocolate or strawberries, and he never wanted it to end; she fit nicely against him and she didn't hesitate to deepen the kiss.

He's dazed when she finally pulls away from him, both of them breathing hard and struggling to regain composure. "I'll do it," he says after a moment, blinking a few times to get grounded again," as long as you kiss me like that when I return."

"Come back in one piece and I'll do more than kiss you, Squishy." As she opened the door, three people fell forward with shouts of protest, Miss Sterling landing on top of Carl and Sparrow.

"Uh," Miss Sterling flounders, looking up at them sheepishly," you know, the only excuse I have is that I was looking for my contacts."

"You don't wear contacts." Kit laughs and helps her friends up, helping to brush off their clothes.

"Is there a reason why Sparrow isn't in irons yet," Norrington questions as he steps back outside, raising a brow when Groves just smiles. "She has a threatening finger, doesn't she?"

"That she does, sir," Groves agrees, looking with amusement at Gillette, who was nursing a bleeding nose. "An effective punch as well."

"So it would seem. Sparrow—"

"I know, I know," the pirate grumbles, holding out his wrists," clap him in irons, right?"

"Now you're catching on. Katherine, I'll be back as quickly as I can to ensure you keep that promise." With a grin, she slaps his rear and walks back into the cabin, singing loudly as she went. "Is she always like that?"

"She only sings like that when she's about to get laid by a guy she really likes," Terasa answers, patting his arm. "You should feel special, Squishy." And then she and Carl disappear into the cabin as well, shutting the door and muffling Kit's singing.

"Mister Sparrow, you'll be coming along." He turns to Gillette and points at the cabin door, desperately wishing his pointing could be as effective as the women’s. "Ensure they don't come out if things grow serious, they would only hurt themselves." He goes to walk back to the boats, but stops again. "In fact, you should probably put Miss Swann in there as well because she's just as stubborn."


	8. Saving Captain Guyliner

—Katherine—

My singing is cut off when Elizabeth is shoved into the room and the doors are slammed shut, the clicking noise that followed letting us know we're locked in. "Well, there goes your plan of sneaking on one of those boats."

"Like a locked cabin door is going to stop me," Terasa snorts as Elizabeth pounds her hands against the glass, shouting about skeletons and idiotic sailors. My eyes widen and I turn to my friends with a stomach-dropping feeling.

"Oh shit, I forgot to warn Squishy about the undead aspect of all of this!" Carl moves quickly, going through the drawers until he found a hairpin.

"I can have that door open in ten minutes, tops," he says hurriedly, nudging Elizabeth out of the way and kneeling in front of the lock, sticking the pin in and wiggling it around.

"I've got something better," Rasa says and shoves me off the bed. She pulls the top cover off of it, tying one end to the sheet. "Remember our class trip to Louisiana when we all wanted to head to Bourbon Street to try out our fake ID's?" Still sick to my stomach, I focus on the plan and secure the other end of the blanket to the bedpost, Elizabeth stepping in to help while Carl continued to work on the door. "It's a good thing we were deviants growing up, huh?"

"At least this time we won't need to trick a bouncer the size of a house."

"Elizabeth," The Governor calls, tapping on the glass as we continue to work hard," children, I just want all of you to know that I'm sorry you all have to be locked in here. It's for your own good; we don't need unnecessary loss of life when you're all so young." He continues talking as I swing the window open, holding our homemade rope just in case as Terasa begins her descent outside.

"Easy," I instruct, bracing the heels of my shoes against the floor as the rope begins to swing under her weight," take it slow and don't get caught by Gillette."

"Children? Are you even listening to me?" The Governor enters the room seconds later, pausing when he sees Elizabeth and me holding the rope and Carl halfway out the window. He looks dumbfounded, shaking his head as Carl speeds up. "Do they even know what they're doing out there?"

"If I say yes, will it make you feel any better," Elizabeth asks, both of us letting go of the rope when the tension is released. Weatherby just shakes his head and walks over to the window to look down, and I wave at my friends as they row away from the  _Dauntless_.

"You have to admit," I smile, patting his shoulder," we're clever for only being in our twenties." The sound of gunfire and clanging swords make all of us turn to look out the doorway, the three of us hurrying to shut the door as dozens of skeletons descend on the very human crew of our ship.

 _Oh, we're so royally screwed_.

—Terasa—

"Where are we going," Carl hisses as I row us past Barbossa's ship," aren't we supposed to be over there?"

"No," I grunt, shoulders beginning to ache," we're supposed to be finding Squishy." We had to speak in whispers, not wanting to tip off the pirates that we hadn't died of starvation on that island. "There, look! The little boats like ours." Even with the fog, it was easy to make out the bobbing forms that we were looking for. They were around the corner of the cave entrance, just floating there like statues, only faint whispers coming from their general direction. I row faster until we were within whisper distance with Squishy. "Norrington."

"What on earth," he starts only to have me cut him off.

"Just so you have a better chance of living, Barbossa's men are a little cursed, so, like, they can't die." He raises a skeptical brow and I found myself wishing that my brows could do that. "They're kind of skeletons until the curse is broken, but Kit sends her love."

"Cursed?"

"Yeah, there's this whole long story, but I'm going in there to help break it and I'm leaving Carl with you as a guard dog."

"Like hell," Carl snarls, narrowing his green eyes at me," I don't even like this guy!"

"Think of it this way, you'll have to deal with a heartbroken Kit if he dies when you could've stopped it." He grumbles, carefully moving out of my boat and into Squishy's while sending the other man a sour look. Once the boats were steady again, I continue rowing to the entrance, suddenly glad that I changed into shorts on the island since it gives me a better range of movement. Pulling the boat up onto the land by myself wasn't easy, but I managed and then sprinted the rest of the way to the cavern.

Inside, a full brawl has broken out, Will fighting three pirates while Jack and Barbossa had a battle of their own. Temper beginning to spike, I grab a heavy, golden bowl and dart forward to the closest pirate, bashing him in the head with the bowl, continuing to do it until he was lying limply on the ground.

"About time," Will shouts with a grin.

"What can I say?" I throw the bowl at another pirate, snapping its leg. "I like my entrances to be dramatic!" The two of us stand back to back as we fight off the pirates, Will using his sword and me using whatever I can get my hands on until we found ourselves next to the chest of Aztec gold. "You know what to do?"

"I have an idea or two, yes."

—Katherine—

The arm of a pirate crashes through the glass door, getting a tight hold on the Governor's wig, the bone pale white in the moonlight. Screaming, I grab a candelabrum and begin to beat at the arm while the Governor and Elizabeth fight to keep the wig inside, all of us beyond the point of rational thinking. "I fucking hate zombies," I scream at the arm, each word punctuated by a hit until the arm breaks off at the elbow, Weatherby stomping on it a few times for good measure.

"Into the drawer," Elizabeth commands as the arm continues to flop about. With a wince, Weatherby covers part of the arm with his handkerchief before gripping it with two fingers and throwing it in the drawer Elizabeth had opened. It takes Elizabeth and Weatherby to keep the drawer closed and I stand guard at the door with the candelabrum gripped tightly in my hands, ready to draw on the years of softball I played in school should another of the things try to get inside.

—Terasa—

Will slides the edge of his sword along his palm, blood welling to the surface and covering the gold coin. "Jack," he shouts, the pirate copying him and throwing his own coin. Will catches it deftly, dropping both of them onto the pile before I slide the lid closed. A shot rings out soon afterward, Barbossa jerking to the side in shock before tearing open the front of his frayed coat.

"You just wasted yer shot," Barbossa states, the pain not registering yet or he was used to the pain of the curse and didn't realize it had been lifted.

"Actually, he didn't." Barbossa turns, staring with shock at the blood pouring from the wound over his heart, staining his white shirt as his breathing quickens.

"I feel... Cold." There was no dramatic proclamation of revenge as he falls backwards against a pile of gold, no final apologies for being a terrible father or even a rasping farewell to the world.

He just died.

—Katherine—

There's a sound of clattering weapons and excited shouts as the drawer goes still, the three of us unsure what to think until we gather close together and Weatherby hesitantly opens the drawer. Instead of wriggling bone like we were expecting, we find a moldering arm, severed and bleeding, and stinking to high Heaven. With a grimace, he slams the drawer shut again and waves a hand in front of him to try and dispel the stench.

"This is the worst day ever," I remark, tossing the candelabrum to the side.

"Agreed," Elizabeth and Weatherby say in unison. Tired, I push the doors open and walk out onto the deck, stepping over bodies as I make my way towards a tall man wearing a familiar hat. He turns as I get closer, thin lips turned upwards in a victorious smile as he picks me up and spins me around, laughing in unison with me.

"Tell me, James, you just defeated an entire crew of evil skeletons, what are you gonna do now?"

"I'm going to kiss the woman I love," he replies confidently, setting me on my feet and pressing his lips against mine. Kissing him was a brand-new experience for me, I didn't get that weird feeling of terror like it was wrong and my stomach didn't twist into knots. I was completely relaxed and able to enjoy it. He tasted sweet and he held me like he thought I would break, cradling my neck with careful hands.

"Glad to know you were so worried about me," Jack states from behind us, making me jump in surprise and spin to face him. "Thought you might like this, Kit." He wraps a string of pearls around my neck, patting my cheek even as two guards approach to take him to the brig. "Just so you know," he calls over his shoulder as James wraps his arms around my waist," I don't approve!"

"Because that's so important to me." Snorting, I send an amused look over at Terasa and Carl, surprised to find Terasa holding out a ring in my direction. It wasn't anything elaborate, just a silver band with two small sapphires on either side of a square-cut ruby. "What's this for?"

"It's for what he wants to ask you," she answers knowingly, dropping it in the center of James's palm before walking off with Will. Wondering what she meant, I turn to look at James, taking in his gentle smile and the way he fixed his gaze on me, still holding his hand open between us.

"Well," he prompts," is it a yes, Katherine?" It took me longer than I like to realize what he means, but then I squeal like a madwoman and launch myself back into his arms, giggling all over again in my excitement.

"Ha, she said yes, so you owe me fifty bucks!"

"Goddamn it," Carl shouts somewhere behind us, but I don't pay him any attention as James slides the ring onto my finger, the band slightly too big. As much as I loved to savor the moment, it's broken when something small hits my head and then bounces to the deck, Carl snatching it up before I got a good look at it.

"What was that," I ask, rubbing the top of my head with a wince.

"A Dumdum."

"Root beer flavored," Terasa adds

* * *

The carriage ride to Jack's execution is filled with silence, my stomach twisting nervously as I think about what I'm about to see. How could anyone think a hanging is a great public spectacle? Only Terasa, Lizzie, and I seemed to be disturbed by it all, but at least James offered some support on the ride there. He kept me close to his side like he was afraid I'd run off, one of his hands at the small of my back as we walk up the steps to our viewing platform, a perfect spot to see and hear the execution.

It was hot out today, making me supremely happy that I chose a lightweight, purple dress to wear to this shindig, the sleeves like a tank top's, and my flip flops making walking easier. "You don't look well," James mumbles, leaning down to whisper in my ear as Jack's crimes are called out one by one. "Should I take you back to the carriage?"

"I'll be fine," I whisper back, eyes focused on Jack, the pirate looking amused by his crimes and rocking back on his heels in satisfaction. In short, he looked like that cat that killed the canary.

I knew what was planned, I had helped with the damn plan last night after visiting Jack in his cell, but the nerves still didn't go away. If we didn't time this perfectly, then a man would be dead and I'd have to live with that. Sensing my nerves or feeling some herself, Rasa grasps my right hand, delivering a comforting squeeze that I return.

Carl should be somewhere above us, his sniper rifle at the ready with a silencer in place to keep people from freaking out too much; Will was making his way towards the front of the crowd, his feathered hat making him stick out from the other people, but seeing him soothed my nausea. Everything was going as planned; Gibbs and the crew should be making their way to us on the _Pearl_. All Rasa and I have to do is keep everyone busy until the escape can be made. The drumming speeds up as the executioner moves to the lever, pulling it back sharply just before a sword embeds itself in the wood, giving Jack something to stand on until a muffled shot cuts through the rope around his neck.

"Marines!"

"James, I can't—" I start gasping, basically faking an asthma attack as I collapse to the ground, pulling desperately at the front of my dress. "Can't... Breathe!" Crocodile tears gather and fall down my cheeks as James supports me, taking Elizabeth's fan and pushing hot air in my direction. There's sounds of action further away from us as Jack and Will fight their way to the battlements, but I keep my act up for a few more minutes before jumping to my feet and beginning to run towards the meeting point.

Terasa was right behind me, loudly cursing about high heels the entire way and only stopping when Carl picks her up over his shoulder as he passes us. Unfortunately for all of us, Will and Jack hadn't made it entirely to the battlements, stopped just short of the goal by the marines, baronets pointed at them from all sides.

"Jesus, we just can't catch a break," Carl gasps, setting Rasa back on her feet and keeping us close to him.

"I had thought we might endure some ill-conceived escape attempt," James says as he joins us, sword drawn and disappointment in his eyes," but I never thought you three would be involved."

"Would it make you feel any better to know that he's the only pirate I intend to set free," I ask, wrapping my fingers gently around his wrist, making him lower his sword a few inches. "He's helped us all this time, tried to help you fight the skeletons, and yet you still intend to kill him. Most people would consider that rude on your part."

"He's a  _pirate_."

"Yes and his father saved you from drowning, so you can repay that debt by letting Jack live a while longer." James's lips press into a thin line as he stares down at me, eyes going cold, but his stern expression didn't hold a candle to my pleading one. I have very effective puppy-dog eyes, or so I've been told. "Consider it my wedding present, Jamie."

"Turner, stand down."

"No," Will shakes his head and stands straighter," my place is between you and Jack." Knowing how stubborn James Norrington can be, I move to stand next to Will, forcing James to either rest his sword on my shoulder or lower it completely. Thankfully, he does the latter because getting stabbed by my own fiancé isn't something I aspire to.

"Mine, too," Terasa nods, coming to stand on the other side of Will and taking his hand in hers.

"So is mine," Carl agrees," but I'm not gonna stand at the center of all the sharp weapons."

"Why do all of you want to protect him so badly," James demands once all the weapons had been lowered and his sword was sheathed, his question posed to our entire group but his gaze locked firmly on me. He looks betrayed and all I want to do is hug him and apologize, but I have to make sure that idiot Captain is moderately safe first.

"Because," I state softly," he's a good man and you know it. You  _know_  why he was branded."

"You see," Jack says happily as he moves to the front of the group, stepping between James and me like he was offended by how close we've gotten," I can be a likable person." He claps James on the shoulder, using his free hand to push me back a bit more. "I want you to know I was rooting for you, mate, know that." He goes to walk away, but then he turns back. "Also know that you're not allowed to marry Kit without her father's permission—that's me, by the way, hello." A jolt of shock runs through me and I stare at Jack with wide eyes when he turns to face me, unable to react when he pats the top of my head. "Your bad taste in men aside, I'm still proud of you, Kitty."

He goes around me and closer to the battlements before pausing beside Elizabeth, wasting no time in pulling her against him and pressing a deep kiss against her lips, leaving her dazed when he pulls back. "Elizabeth," he continues," it never would've worked between us, love. Terasa, I have no doubt that I will beat you during our next drinking contest; Carl, watch after your sister, you know how she can be sometimes. Will... Nice hat." He runs up the rest of the stairs and stands on the stone ledge, swaying like usual. "Friends, this is the day that you will always remember as the day that—" He’s interrupted when his balance starts to fail, arms waving wildly for a moment before he topples backwards.

"I'll just..." Carl trails off, pointing towards the space Jack had occupied before jumping up on the ledge himself, looking down at the water. "Well, he's still alive, so I'll go on after him. Kit, don't do anything too stupid; Rasa, look after her. Norrington, know that if you hurt my sister in any way, I will hunt you down to the ends of the earth and strangle you with your own intestines." With a pleasant smile, he jumps over the edge, letting out an excited  _whoop_  on the way down.

Moving in sync, everyone rushes up to the ledge, spotting Carl and Jack swimming towards the  _Black Pearl_. "Idiots," Gillette states smugly," they've nowhere to go but to the noose." Sharing an irritated look with Rasa, we both take half a step back and kick at Gillette, making the Lieutenant topple over the ledge and into the water, not looking nearly so pleased when he resurfaces.

"Now who's rude," James remarks, giving me a dry look. "I'll allow one day's head start for Sparrow, but only because I love you, woman."

"Love you, too," I grin, resting my arm in the crook of his elbow and letting him lead the way back to his home. "I shaved my legs last night, so they're all nice and smooth. It would be a shame if that went unnoticed before you left." He looks down at me in slight surprise, letting out a bark of laughter when I waggle my eyebrows suggestively.

"You really are a pirate's daughter."

" _We're rascals and scoundrels, we're villains and knaves, drink up me hearties, yo ho_..."


	9. DMC: Two Weddings And An Asshole

—Katherine—

Weddings weren’t something I was intimately familiar with considering I’ve only ever been to one before and that was my grandpa’s. As far as I was concerned, they were just annoying things that forced you to wear a pretty dress and shoes that could be used to stab drunk guests. James thought my view on weddings was funny, though it wasn’t until a few short hours ago that he realized I wasn’t kidding and our wedding might not go as planned.

Don’t get me wrong, I was excited to marry the love of my life, but these damn heels might just cause me to break my neck while walking down the aisle. If nothing else, my death would really mess today up. All I’ve really got going for me is that my friends are completely at ease.

“Would you stand still,” Rasa demands as she chases me around the small side room with the Tulle veil. Carl was lounging on the vanity chair, watching on in amusement as I continued my pacing and Rasa continued chasing after me. It wasn’t easy for wither of us since we were both wearing heels, but the skirt of my wedding dress only made pacing more difficult.

_Oh God, what if Jamie decides he wants a proper wife?_

"What if I trip," I ask nervously, tugging slightly on the silk material of my dress.

"You won't," Rasa assures me, grasping my wrist and forcing me to stop so she could pin the veil in place. I look at the mirror hanging on the wall of the small side room of the chapel, smoothing the silk from where it had started to wrinkle. All the white on me actually made me look like I had a tan and the plum eyeliner Rasa had applied managed to make my dark eyes look more amber. "It's your wedding day, Kit, you shouldn't be so nervous."

"You try getting married sometime."

"She will," Carl laughs," in about a year or so." Only when he notices me biting my lip does Carl get up and pull me into a tight hug, the familiar scent of coffee and aftershave making me relax against him, resting my head against his chest and breathing him in. That scent meant I would be safe, Carl wouldn't let me embarrass myself too much and he would protect me just like I would protect him.  _It's going to be alright_. "Our father sends you his love and regrets that he can't be here to cut Norrington open, but he's rather occupied with some pressing business."

"I'm sure." My breathing slows back to normal the longer he holds me; it's strange that he has such a soothing effect on me while he intimidates most people. He's not large, but he's got an air around him that screams  _I'll break your kneecaps_ , so only stupid or brave people usually try to pick fights with him, but he's always been my brother and I don't think I've ever been scared of him. "I can do this, right?"

"You're gonna be a natural when you get out there."

"All those other women out there are going to be jealous," Terasa confirms, brushing some of my hair over my shoulders once Carl and I released each other. It wasn't two seconds after Rasa applied some concealer that somebody knocked on the door and Weatherby speaks up from the other side.

"Are you ready, Katherine," the Governor asks, voice muffled by the thick wood. I take a deep breath, the fabric of my dress clutched in one hand so I wouldn't step on it while I walk. Rasa gives me an encouraging nod and opens the door for me, basically shoving me out of the room and straight into the Governor's waiting arms. "Just pretend that James is the only person in the church," he whispers in my ear, setting my hand in the crook of Carl's elbow. "That's how I made it through my own wedding."

"Alright," I nod," let's get this over with." Weatherby chuckles, he and Rasa hurrying into the main part of the church for their seats. Carl and I begin to walk slowly, matching the beat of the wedding march being played on the organ by Groves. Standing at the alter is James, dressed in his new uniform and looking as handsome as he did the first time I met him.

Everything seemed to pass by in a blur, James's vows more traditional while mine were anything but; he spoke in promises of never leaving my side and protecting me while I focused on how I fell for him the moment I saw him—quite literally—then we exchanged our rings, his is a simple gold band while mine was the one Rasa has saved from the Isla de Muerta. Now came the big moment: the kiss.

Propriety demanded it be a simple peck on the cheek, but I've waited too damn long to do this again and I grabbed the front of James's new uniform and pulled him down so I could plant a real kiss on his lips, ignoring the shocked murmurs rippling through the crowd and just focusing on the feel of his lips against mine and the way he pressed me close to him. Fictional fireworks exploded behind my eyes and it just felt so  _right_  that I could almost imagine my leg popping up like in The Princess Diaries. The only thing that kept me from kissing him for the rest of eternity was that annoying need for oxygen.

The reception came after that, held at the Governor's home where everyone was either milling around the edges of the room or dancing. We had already exchanged gifts—James got a pair of diamond cufflinks and an engraved pocket watch while he gave me a pearl necklace and matching earrings.

Carl looked as confident as always, all swaggering charm and arrogance that impressed some of the younger women present. Dressed in a fitted suit and purple tie, it was little wonder why the women were swooning, his dark hair windblown and beaded in places. He kept sending looks in my direction every now and again over his glass of champagne, nodding his head in the direction of the gardens.

"Are you alright," James asks, noticing how distracted I was.

"Never better," I smile with a nod, loving the way his green eyes shined with life. "I think I'm going to step outside for a little while and get some fresh air." He nods, giving me a chaste kiss before letting me out of his hold. I give him another smile over my shoulder, walking out the French doors to the garden. The night air is cool on my overheated skin, a light breeze ruffling the fabric of my dress and the flowers surrounding me. I close my eyes, breathing in the sweet smell of roses and enjoying the silence until the peaceful moment is broken by a familiar drawl.

"Kitty," Jack whispers from somewhere close by,"  _pst_ , Kitty, over here!" I turn, spotting a gleam of moonlight hitting something gold just inside the hedge maze and out of everyone else's sight. Smiling at the dramatics, I lift the skirt of my dress again and make my way over to Jack, joining him in the shadows and nearly laughing outright at his outfit. He was in an Admiral's uniform and actually looked clean for once, but his dreadlocks were tied off his face by his bright red bandana and the string of beads and the gold coin was braided into the brocade on his shoulder.

"I thought you were busy with things."

"I wanted to surprise you," he grins, resting his calloused hands on my bare shoulders and taking me in. "You look beautiful, sweetheart, and your wedding wasn't half bad, though I do object to your husband. Bit of an ass if you ask me, but what do I know? He only tried to hang me." He laughs as I smack him lightly and presses a kiss against my forehead.

"Can I ask you something about my childhood?"

"Go for it."

"Who's my mother?" He pauses, biting his lip as he thinks that question over. Surely he knew who she was since he had to have interacted with her in order to gain custody of me. Hell, he would have to keep in contact with her if he knew she was pregnant with me. Maybe he didn't know until she showed up one day?

"I met your mother quite by happenstance back before I joined the navy, I was still a pirate back then and confused a nunnery with a brothel, but it was all consensual." My eyes widen as I connect the dots, hitting him slightly harder this time and hissing out a response.

"You knocked up a nun?! Jesus, you really are going straight to hell!" He looks around nervously, quickly putting a hand over my mouth to keep me from drawing attention to us.

"It was an honest mistake that I didn't think about again until someone knocked on my door a year later. I opened it and found this tiny baby crying in a basket at my doorstep, there was a note that said you were mine and I believed it because you look just like me. Anyway, I brought you inside, made a few inquiries, and then I found you the best nursemaid I could afford; she raised you while I was gone."

"Is she still alive?" He hesitates again, like he was afraid of telling me the truth, and traps his lip between his teeth.  _At least I know I come by my nervous lip-biting habit naturally_.

"She was murdered when you were sixteen by... A man that shall remain nameless right now, but suffice it to say that he was a real bastard and I'll kill him one of these days for everything he's done." He pulls me into a tight hug that bordered on bone-crushing, holding me like he was afraid I'd turn to ash and blow away if he ever released me.

"Thanks for coming, Dad."

"I'd never miss my only daughter's wedding," he whispers against the crown of my head," not for anything."

—James—

Dressed in only his breeches, James sits down at his desk, content to look over some paperwork while Katherine was readied by her maids. She wanted her outfit to be a surprise, so he would leave her to it and get some work done in the meantime. He had been assigned to look into the reports of pirates in the worse section of Port Royal and it wasn't easy to do since he was also going through drills with some of the newer members.

James looks up when his wife enters the bedroom and his first thought is to take her up against the wall and to hell with the bed. The nightgown she had on was white and clung to her body like a second skin, the bodice tight and the slit in the skirt showing off her legs. Then he saw her nervous expression and remembered the way she would flinch away from touches like she thought she'd be burned.

"I know I'm not as skinny as the other women," she says, tugging at a lock of hair," nor am I as pretty—" James stands and cuts her off with a deep kiss, pulling her tightly against him so that she could feel exactly what she did to him.

"If I wanted a woman that was stick thin with a boring personality I wouldn't have married you." Katherine lowers her head, blushing prettily under his intense gaze. "I want you to know that I will protect you no matter what. We don't have to do anything tonight if you don't want to, we can just lie in bed and talk."

Without warning she lunges forward, kissing him and he knows that once she got past her bad memories and initial shyness she would give him everything. He leans further into the kiss, feeling her body responding to his light touch as he skims his hands down her sides to cup her rear. She isn't the first woman to share his bed, but she's the only woman he wants to stay there. He needs to show that not all men are animals, though it would be hard to control his baser instincts when she was looking at him like she is now, her dark eyes alight with lust and anticipation.

"Don't be too rough," she breathes, moving away from him to remove her gown, the silken fabric pooling around her feet.

"I'd never dream of it." His eyes hungrily drink in her bare form, moving from her unruly hair over her small breasts and soft stomach to the very tips of her toes and back up again. He would never get enough of her; she is the perfect woman for him in every way. "I do not want to hurt you, Kit, and so I have to ask if you've ever been with a man besides the one who hurt you." Her gaze lowers to the floor, her arms covering her breasts in embarrassment. "I ask only because it might still hurt at first if you haven't." Even they hadn't gone all the way in their previous embraces and he knew she was nervous about it all.

"A couple of times, but not in a while since my brother scared them off or I couldn't bring myself to do it. I never felt safe around them." She looks up at him and he can see unshed tears in her wide eyes. "I don't feel like that around you, Jamie, I feel safe, so I know you won't hurt me on purpose." She pauses, blinking the tears away and giving him a half-hearted devious smile. "But I might hurt you if you don't get over here and take care of the incessant throbbing between my legs."

"Who am I to deny my wife?" She giggles, actually giggles, and launches herself in his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and sending them both toppling to the floor.

They never did make it to the bed that night, but James found he couldn't complain.

—Katherine—One and a Half Years Later—

The last thing I expected to find when I walked into my living room was my husband jumping around after a tiny bird, but stranger things have happened. James was hopping around the room, desperately trying to catch the bird while mumbling under his breath. Two and a half years later and this man can still surprise me sometimes.

"Jamie," I ask, making him freeze with his back to me," is there any particular reason why we have a bird loose in our house?"

"Uh, it's an anniversary gift for you," he answers, not turning around yet. The bird lands on the windowsill, its head cocked to the side as it watched us.

"Two weeks early?"

"You know me, dearest, I'm always prepared for these kinds of things." His tone suggested he was nervous about something, as does the fact that he was still unnaturally tense as he and the bird stared at each other. Fighting back a grin, I come to stand next to him, one hand rubbing soothing circles on his back.

"You forgot why today's important, didn't you?"

"Of course not."

"Okay, so you remembered today has something to do with weddings." He hesitates a split second before answering, slowly beginning to relax under my ministrations.

"Closer to the mark, yes."

"Rasa and Will are getting married today and we're going to be late if we don't leave right now." He relaxes completely now, letting out a breath of relief. "Thanks for the bird, though, it's beautiful." It was a tiny little thing, mostly white with some brown near its eyes, wings, and tail. It cocked its head to the side and flew over to me, landing at my feet.

"It's a Sparrow, so I thought it was fitting." I laugh a little, bending down and running a gentle finger over the bird's crown. It seemed to like it because it pushed itself further against my hand. "A ship came in with animals from other lands and he was all alone in a cage, I figured we could give him a good home."

"You figured right, honey." It hopped up on my hand, letting out a loud, happy chirp. "What should your name be, little guy?" It cocks its head again, hopping around a little on my hand, back and forth along my fingers like an excited puppy. "How about Watson? Do you like that?" It chirps again, flying up to land on top of my shoulder.

"Well, it seems he likes you." James reaches out a hand to pet Watson, but draws back quickly when the bird tries to peck at him. "And it seems I'm the enemy."

"We'd better get going." James nods, grabbing Terasa's present off the table before leading the way to the front door. “It’s supposed to be held outside, so I hope the weather holds.” The clouds had been rolling in while I was shopping with Elizabeth earlier and one glance out the window showed that they had darkened since then.

“I’m sure Terasa won’t allow some rain to ruin her big day. After all, one glare form her would probably have even the strongest of tropical storms dissipating in an instant.” I grin up at him, glad he’s finally relaxed enough to stop calling Rasa ‘Miss Sterling’. “Here, put on your cloak, darling.” James was reaching for my cloak on its little peg when the door of our house is kicked open, red-uniformed soldiers marching inside with bayonets trained on us. The sudden noise and threat made Watson chirp in panic, his talons digging into my shoulder through the thin material of my dress.

“Jamie?”

"What is the meaning of this," James demands angrily, standing in front of me protectively as another man steps inside. He looked familiar, only a few inches taller than me even in boots and dressed in fine, albeit dark, clothes with a tricorn hat resting atop his powdered wig. He might have been considered handsome if not for his blue-gray eyes, which were hard and cold, reminding me of a sea during a hellacious storm.

"Arrest them," the man commands calmly, hands folded behind his back as he watches on. Watson flies off quickly, alighting on one of the paintings that hung in our hallway. James pushes me backwards away from the advancing soldiers, his face a mask of grim determination.

"I demand to know why!" The shorter man just smirks a little, that simple expression making fear rise to the surface and my breath catch in my throat. I know this man from somewhere, but where? The only thing I can think of is  _pain_ , he hurt me before Calypso sent me away from here and I'm willing to bet my life that he's the reason why yelling makes me scared.

"Let me go," I scream, fighting even as the irons are clasped around my wrists, two soldiers having to restrain me so I don't hurt the third one trying to put the manacles on me. "No! Get off of me, you bastards!"

"Such language," the man scolds, coming to stand barely a foot away from me. The close proximity makes me wince and try to step back, but the soldiers were still holding me firmly in place. "Certainly not appropriate for a woman of your station, Mrs. Norrington."

"Get away from my wife," James growls, struggling violently.

"Do we have the others?" He addressed another man that was hanging back in the doorway, the new man as tall as James with a pockmarked face. His clothing was more worn than the other guy's, and I could see two pistols and a knife hooked to his belt. There were faint bulges near the back waistband of his breeches, hinting at more weapons.

"We do, my lord," he confirms with a nod.

"Good, then we should get to the church. It would be rude to keep the bride-to-be waiting." We're shoved outside, soldiers flanking us to ensure we don't make a break for it the first chance we got. The clouds seemed to burst open a few feet from the house, cold water pouring over us and making me yearn for James to wrap his arms around me, to hold me and keep me safe from these men.

It's a long walk to the church, mud slippery beneath my feet until we reached the shelter of the chapel, ignoring the priest as we're herded back outside to the covered veranda where the wedding was to take place. Rasa was standing at the very edge, just out of reach of the rain, and turning when she heard the rhythmic marching of soldiers. She looked beautiful in her pristine white gown, the bodice of it decorated with white gems while the skirt flared out at her waist. Her black hair was done up in an elegant bun, white flowers braided into it, her necklace and earrings reminding me of a waterfall, made up entirely of crystals, and she still clutched a bouquet of dark purple flowers.

This was supposed to be her perfect day, but the weather and these goons have gone and ruined it all.

Will was just as soaked as the rest of us when he’s drug in, Rasa almost sprinting so she could wrap her arms around his neck and hold him tightly. "What's going on," she asks, looking genuinely afraid. Her voice shook a little and it was so strange to see my best friend as something other than confident to the extreme.

"I don't know," Will frowns, eyes moving to the man in charge. He had his back to all of us, staring out at the chairs and the sea further beyond that. His heavy coat and hat have kept him mostly dry and he was entirely relaxed. Hell, he could be shopping for groceries as calm as he was, unfazed by the cold and seeming to revel in the chaos. It made me want to break his damn nose. "You look beautiful." I roll my eyes, turning to face the pair.

"Seriously," I ask in disbelief," that can't wait till we sort this shit out?" I let out a frustrated huff when two more soldiers drag my brother in, his black hair a tangled mess with a few beads braided in. Carl grimaces when he sees my glare, stopping his struggle against the soldiers.  _Could this get any worse?_

Weatherby pushes his way through the crowd only to be stopped at the front when two soldiers bar his way, rifles crossed and the sharp blades of the bayonets on top gleaming just inches from his nose until he takes half a step back. "What is the meaning of this," he demands. “Order your men to stand down!"

Smirk still firmly in place, the head honcho turns to face us again, a soldier taking his coat as he did so, all accomplished in one smooth, dramatic movement. It might have been impressive if it hadn't looked like he'd practiced it every day for a month. God, any more flourishes with this guy and I'll be expecting him to parade spiders in front of us and declare himself as the Master of Whispers.  _At the very least, he'd be leading us to a man-eating bunny and calling himself Tim_.

"Governor Weatherby Swann, it's been too long," the man greets politely.

"Cutler Beckett?" The Governor's tone is filled with disgust, like he'd just taken a big bite out of something rotten and now wanted the taste out of his mouth.  _Cutler Beckett_. I shiver at the name, a nearly overwhelming feeling of wrongness hitting me hard and making my knees buckle, a soldier having to hand his rifle off to someone else in order to keep me upright.

"It's Lord now, actually."

"Lord or not, you have no reason or authority to arrest these children." I was only half-paying attention, fighting off years of memories that had been walled up for my own protection, most of them blurry and not making sense. He had hurt me, I know that much, but I can't remember much aside from that.  _He's bad, kill him before he hurts Rasa, too_.

"... The warrants for the arrests of William Turner, Katherine Norrington, Terasa Sterling, James Norrington, and Carl McGee." He handed over several pieces of parchment to the Governor while more soldiers arrested Terasa, Beckett looking far too pleased for my liking. He needed taken down a peg or two and I'd be happy to volunteer for the task.

"This is bullshit," I shout, digging the heel of my shoe into the soldier's foot in an attempt to get away. He grunts, quickly readjusting so that his feet are holding mine down. "You're just doing this out of revenge and nothing else, you rat!" His expression hardens for a second as his eyes land on me, like he was having to restrain himself from lashing out. "Go ahead and lay a hand on me, shorty," I snarl with a vicious smile. “Give me a reason to knock you on your ass." He makes a  _tsking_  sound, shaking his head and staring at me like he'd expected better.

"I assure you, Mrs. Norrington, this is nothing of the sort. In fact, this is what happens to people that conspire to set free a man convicted of crimes against the Crown and Empire and condemned for death. Regrettably, the punishment for such a crime is also death." He steps close to us and I can see the faint, dark stubble on his cheeks. "Perhaps all of you remember a certain pirate named Jack Sparrow."

"Captain," all but Weatherby and James correct automatically, making Beckett's smirk only widen.

"Yes, I thought you might." He looks to me again, eyes narrowed only slightly as his gaze flicks between Carl and me several times, taking in the similarities. "You're kin to him, aren't you, Mister McGee?" Carl raises his chin proudly, the beads in his hair jingling quietly from the motion. "You're Katherine's brother." He was way too assured with himself for these to just be simple guesses, he knows the truth and it's scary to think about that.  _If he knows my parentage, then he could hang me just for consorting with them_.

"Lord Beckett," I state coolly,” the people wherever you're from must be missing their idiot. I assure you that Carl and I are no more related than you and me. In fact, he's just a simple dock worker that's never left Port Royal and wasn't even there when Sparrow was meant to be hanged. You can ask anyone at the docks and they'll confirm that fact, so now we know you're just fishing for incriminating evidence."  _Thank Christ for all those crime shows I watch_.

"Mister Mercer, Katherine seems to be under the impression that she's more intelligent than I am. Escort her to my office, I'm sure we can put her knowledge of Mister Sparrow to good use." The clerk moves over to me, slinging me over his shoulder and marching through the crowd unopposed, my group of friends unable to intervene due to the sheer number of soldiers keeping them in their place.

"I just fucked myself over, didn't I?"

"More than you know," Mercer agrees curtly.

 _Fan-freaking-tastic_.


	10. His Shortness

—Terasa—

The worst part of spending the night in a jail cell were the rats. They were active at night and I could hear their claws scratching against the flagstones as they hunted for something to eat. More than once, I had to kick out at the damn things to keep them from eating the expensive fabric of my dress or even my damn toes. It’s bad enough that I wasn’t even married after the Governor had spent so much money on everything, so I’ll be damned if I let my dress get completely ruined.

Still, it could be a lot worse considering we weren’t hanged yesterday. It helps that Will and Carl are in the cell next to mine, Will’s hand holding mine through the bars as we wait for any news. Carl just kept pacing, kicking at the bars occasionally, filled with an anxious energy stemming from the absence of his sister. We had all thought she would be drug inside sometime yesterday, but that’s been a little over eight hours ago and there’s been no sign of Kit.

“You don’t think she’s dead, do you,” Carl asks, ignoring the dark look James sent him. The other man was seated on the bench with Will, chewing on his thumbnail. “I mean, she’s spunky and goes for blood, but she’s not exactly coordinated.”

“I’m sure she could beat up Beckett if she had to,” James replies, almost growling. “As you said, she goes for blood.”

“She’ll be fine,” I cut in before Carl could start another argument. “I taught her the basics of fighting in high school and Carl taught her how to kill a man. What we really need to focus on is how we’re getting the hell out of here.”

“Will, you got Sparrow out of here before, do you think you can do it again?” But Will was shaking his head, absently rubbing his thumb in soothing circles on my hand.

“These benches aren’t right for it,” he murmurs, using his free hand to knock on the wood for emphasis. “They would break under the strain of trying to lift the door.”

“What about you, Carl, can you pick the lock?”

“With what,” Carl asks,” my good looks? I can’t exactly use my charm on the lock, Norrington.” The sound of a door opening and closing above us had everyone looking up, the soldier slowly revealed to be Murtogg as he makes his way down the steps. The skinny marine seemed strange without his friend, but he kept his head up and his gray eyes on my cell.

“Lord Beckett wishes to speak with you, Miss Sterling,” he says, expression grim as he pulls out the keys for my cell. “He said it was urgent and to get you there right away.”

“Don’t suppose he’s sporting any bruises,” I say dryly.

“A small one on his chin.” Murtogg’s lips raise slightly in a smile that he was trying hard to fight. “Seems like Mrs. Norrington took offense to the accusations and struck out before that scary clerk could stop her.”

“You see,” James says proudly,” my wife knows what she’s doing.”

“I picked her up a second ago from your house, Commodore.”

“How is she?”

“Looks fine other than a hangover.” He shrugs, unlocking my cell and cuffing my hands in front of me before leading me outside to a waiting carriage. It was made up of dark wood with a _B_ emblazoned on one of the door, dark blue curtains keeping me from seeing inside. He opens the door and helps me inside, shutting the door once I was comfortable. Katherine was lying across the bench opposite me, still wearing the same pale teal dress from the day before.

"What happened to you," I ask, watching as she shifts and sits up. Kit groans, rubbing her forehead and squinting at me in the dim light.

"After my meeting with His Shortness, I went home and drank until my darling butler had to carry me upstairs," she responds in a soft grumble that was difficult to hear. Obviously she has just woken up because she's rarely this quiet once she's been up for more than a few hours. "Apparently I was engaged to Lord Beckett when I was sixteen, then Jack freed his cargo of slaves and took me to Tia Dalma to be sent to what we thought was the real world. Or something like that anyway. I don't know, but Beckett is a perv and his servants make shitty tea."

"So Beckett's nickname is His Shortness?" She nods, smirking a little with her eyes closed. The rest of the ride is spent in silence with an occasional groan coming from Kit, her hangover probably reminding her why she doesn't get drunk very often. She was more of a lightweight than she made people believe, so she must have had a really stressful night if she went home raided the liquor cabinet.

The carriage rumbles to a halt and the door is opened again, this time by Lieutenant Groves, and he helps Katherine and me to the ground, making sure to have a tight grip on Kit when he helps her out, before leading us to Lord Beckett's office.

"Oh  _hell_  no." Kit nods grimly when she notices my disbelieving expression. The office that Beckett had taken over is Norrington's and I can tell that it makes Kit makes angry to see her husband's things replaced by Beckett's.

"Yes," comes Beckett's voice after Groves knocks on the opened door.

"Miss Sterling and Miss Maxwell are here, my lord," Groves answers, sending us a look that meant _behave_. It was a moment before we got the okay to enter, Groves escorting us inside the spacious room. Beckett nods towards my cuffs and Groves quickly removes them, giving me an apologetic look. "Behave and good luck," he whispers, leaving the room and shutting the door behind him. The room is sparse considering how it used to look, a desk and two chairs setting in the middle of the room, a map being painted on the far wall, and double doors leading to a balcony on my right.

"Good afternoon. I trust you both slept well?"

"Oh yeah, because sleeping in a jail cell all night is sure to leave you well-rested," I mutter, crossing my arms and looking away from the man.

"You know damn well that I didn't," Katherine says loud enough to be heard, her eyes narrowed at His Shortness. The only sign that Kit had annoyed Beckett was the way his lips pressed into a thin line. He clears his throat, gesturing to the two chairs in front of the massive oak desk that was scattered with paperwork.

"Please," he murmurs," have a seat. Would either of you like some tea?" Katherine opens her mouth to say something, but I step on her foot as hard as I can, the words turning into a squeak of pain. The last thing we need is her snide comments making Beckett hate us even more. All of us take our seats, Kit respectively declining a cup of tea while I accept one, discreetly summoning a couple of packets of Splenda in my lap and dumping them in the tea while Beckett was distracted by pouring his own cup.

"You said if I came back we would talk about a deal." I look over at Katherine, finding a defeated, exhausted expression on her face that I've never seen before. She's telling the truth and she hates the fact that she has to deal with this rat. I move my gaze back to Beckett, taking in his smug look as he takes a sip of his drink _. I wonder if there's booze in this office_. Beckett continues to watch us for a few minutes, Kit squirming under his intense stare while I match it.

"So I did, but I would like a few more answers." Kit's shoulders slump and her hands grasp the arms of her chair tightly as though she was fighting not to coldcock the bastard. She has a good right hook as the dark blue on Beckett’s chin proves. "Who is your father, Miss Sterling?" I swallow hard around the lump building in my throat, well aware of what happens to people who associate with pirates. "Don't look so worried, your friend has already told me of her father, surely yours can't be any worse." He was baiting me, I'm almost positive of it.

"Why does it matter," I ask, taking a drink of my tea and wincing a little. _Katherine's right, this tea tastes like ass._

"Before I make a deal that could possibly result in your pardons, I want to know who your father is." He raises an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair and looking at me expectantly. Kit grumbles something indistinct under her breath, sinking down in her chair.

"My father's been dead for about two and a half years now."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, Your Shortness," Kit practically growls," I told you that last night."

"Then Terasa shouldn't have a problem telling me his name." Kit clenches the carved wood arms tighter, her knuckles going white. She is going to snap soon and when she did it would be bad. Kit normally has a good hold on her temper, but when she lets go she really lets the person that pissed her off have it. Last time was in college and she sent a guy that was bigger than her running inside the school with his tail tucked firmly between his legs. Quiet kids are the ones you have to watch out for in the long run.

"It's none of your business," I state firmly, my own temper beginning to rise.

"I suppose we'll be doing this the hard way." He nods at someone behind us and when I turn in my seat I find Mercer and Carl stepping out of the shadows with one hand holding tightly to Carl's arm and the other holding a knife to Carl's throat. Kit's eyes widen as we both jump from our seats. This isn't what I was expecting and I found myself wondering how they managed to get here so fast since I left before Carl. "It's simple, really, no one of importance will miss a pirate." The unveiled threat hangs heavy in the air, my mouth opening and closing.

"Captain Hector fucking Barbossa," I yell, close to panic, watching my friend in fear. "Are you insane?"

"No, darling, not insane, just persistent." Beckett nods again and Mercer brings the knife harder against Carl's bared throat. Carl holds his breath, knowing he couldn't struggle due to his hands being tied behind his back and any move he might make would only succeed in slitting his own throat. He sends a desperate glance in Beckett's direction, the knife making a shallow cut and a few drops of blood staining the white cotton of his shirt.

"Stop!" Looking helpless, Kit turns and takes Beckett's face between her hands, planting a kiss smack on his lips. His Shortness lets out an audible groan, pulling her tighter against him with an arm around her waist and his fingers tangling in her thick hair. I quickly look away, feeling sick to my stomach. Carl's jaw clenches and I can tell that if it weren't for the knife at his throat he would be on top of Beckett and Hulk smashing the man's face.

When Beckett finally lets Kit go, he nods again at his clerk and this time Carl is thrown to the ground.

"Carl," Katherine cries, dropping to her knees beside him and helping him to sit up. I grab the knife from Mercer before he could react and cut through the rope binding Carl's hands, wincing at the burns on his wrists. Obviously he'd struggled on the way here and the rope had bit into his flesh, leaving bright red rings. "Are you alright?" Carl nods, shaking from rage as he gives Beckett a murderous glare. There was a promise in that look, a promise that, when he got the chance, he would remove Beckett's head from his shoulders in the most painful way he could think of.

Before any of us could do anything too stupid, there’s a knock on the door and then Will is being escorted inside. His hands were cuffed, the iron digging in and leaving sores that would have to be tended to soon to avoid infection.

"Terasa," he asks softly, letting his shoulders relax slightly when I give a nod. Beckett turns away from us to stoke the fire, making sure it stayed nice and toasty inside the office despite the stifling heat outside. “Carl, are you alright?”

“Been better,” Carl remarks, giving Beckett another scathing glare. Beckett just smirks a little when he catches sight of it, looking too smug for words. Honestly, I’ve never seen someone that smirked as much as Beckett does, it’s weird.

"Lord Beckett, the prisoner as ordered, sir," one of the soldiers with Will says.

"Those won't be necessary," Beckett replies, gesturing at Will's manacles. The soldier that spoke removes the chains and both leave the room as Beckett pours two glasses of brandy. "The East India Trading Company has need of your services." He sets a half-full glass down in front of Will before walking back to the fireplace, talking as he went. "We want you to act as an agent in a business transaction with our mutual friend Jack Sparrow." Beckett looks over at Katherine as he says this and picks up a pirate brand, the metal glowing red from constant exposure to the flames.

" _Captain_ ," she corrects again, finally looking up from Carl," my father is a Captain and a better man than you will ever be."

"He's more of an acquaintance than friend," Will interjects before Beckett could react to Kit's attitude. "How do you know him?"

"We've had dealings in the past," he answers vaguely. Beckett brings the brand up to eye-level before he continues. "And we've each left our mark on the other."

"Are you talking about when you wrongfully branded him,” I ask boldly, moving to stand next to my fiancé,” or about when you tried to force his kid into a marriage?” Beckett ignores my question, sticking the brand back into the fire and walking over to Will and me. He'd looked miffed for a second, like my question had legitimately offended him in some way.

"By your efforts, Jack Sparrow was set free. I would like you to go to him and recover a certain property in his possession." Beckett takes a gulp of the booze and I wanted nothing more than to take Will's drink and dump it on the bastard's head.

"Recover," Will repeats. "At the point of a sword?"

"Bargain." He moves over to his desk, opening a small chest and holding up a leather packet. He looks over his shoulder at his clerk, eyes cutting back to Carl and Kit. "Mister Mercer, please escort Miss Sterling and Mister McGee back to their cells, and Mrs. Norrington to the sitting room." Mercer nods, practically pushing us out the door and taking his knife back from me.

I'm afraid to think about what he might do if we gave him any trouble, he doesn't seem like the type that would think twice before committing a murder.


	11. Horrors Of The Past

—Katherine—

Groves stays in the sitting room with me while Mercer forces Carl and Terasa back to their cells; his expression is kind as it always is towards me, but I still don't feel comforted. Theodore and I have grown to be good friends since James and I were married, bonded in our mutual annoyance of James's hard-headed nature.

"Theo," I ask in a bored tone," do you ever think about shooting His Shortness in the ass?" Theo laughs softly, standing by my chair.

"Every hour or so," he nods. “I've also thought of doing the same to James at times."

"I think we all have." I give him a pitiful laugh, feeling ready to drop at any moment. I didn't get much sleep last night, nightmares kept me awake. I guess they weren't nightmares exactly, memories from my time here would be more exact and they revolved around Beckett. He was a ruthless man even back then, ready to marry me for the simple reason of having more control over my father. Apparently Jack was extremely loving and protective back then and would do whatever was asked of him if it meant Carl and I were safe. We were all each other had since Carl was living in Ireland with his mother.

The door to the room opens and the cause of my nightmares steps inside with a superior look on his face.

"Hey, Groves, let me borrow your pistol."

"I don't think that'd be a good idea, Kit." He nods to Beckett and me before exiting the room to go back to his post, leaving Beckett and me alone with no real weapon at hand unless you wanted to count my give 'em hell attitude.

"Are you both close," Beckett inquires, ignoring my glare with ease.

"He's a good man." Beckett nods, sitting in the chair across from me, settling down comfortably and watching me. "Why am I still here?"

"To discuss a few matters."

"Like a deal for my friends?"

"Exactly." He smirks at my suspicious look, cocking his head to the side slightly. "In order to guarantee their freedom, you must give me your little gift that the witch your father visited blessed you with before sending you away."

"How do you know about that? Did you Google me or something?" My brows furrow in confusion, wondering just how many spies Beckett had on his pay roll. Obviously enough to stay in the swamps, but which ones and how did they know to dodge the cannibals that inhabited the other side of the island?

"What's Goog- Never mind." He shakes his head, getting back on track. "I've had people watching you since the day I considered marrying you. I couldn't have you running off with some sailor when you were promised to me."

"It doesn't matter; I can't give what you want because I don't know how." His smirk turns into an all-out grin, lacing his fingers together. "I don't like that look, it makes me nervous and uncomfortable." He chuckles, eyes glittering with something I don't like.

"Lucky for us that I know how to do the transfer. All you have to do is focus very hard on me. You have to love me as well, but that shouldn't be too hard." I arch a brow at his cockiness, finding it difficult to believe that his own mother loved him let alone a normal person like me.

"Well, that's not gonna happen. How about I buy you a new wig?" He sighs, shaking his head and standing up so that he had the upper ground. "Sorry, buddy, but I don't love you and I never will. It's one of the side effects of being the biggest asshole on this side of the equator, so you better get used to it." I stand up too, keeping my posture confident like Rasa had taught me. "I don't remember much from my time spent with you, last night or otherwise, but I'm not some teenager with self-esteem issues, I'm a grown ass woman and I know how to kill people seventy different ways."

"Why do I have trouble believing that?"

"Oh, you really don't want to make me hurt you, Beckett." I give him a pleasant smile, stepping in close so that our breaths mingled together, palming the small knife from the pocket of his frock coat without him realizing. He lets out a faint gasp when I press the cold steel against his thigh firmly.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"There's an artery here," I tell him, still perfectly composed," if I stab it at an angle, then you'll be unconscious in thirty seconds and dead in three minutes, tops." I move the blade to press against Cutler's pride, watching in satisfaction as his eyes go wide. "And if I cut  _this_  off, then it'll be a slow and agonizing two hours before you finally die; just remember that the next time you try and fuck with me." I drive the knife down into the table near us, the blade wobbling back and forth from the force. "Goodbye, Lord Beckett."

"Mrs. Norrington," Mercer greets as he helps me into the carriage that brought me here. "I trust your visit was pleasant."

"How have you not killed that guy yet?" What was the use of pleasantries when the guy you're talking to has probably killed more people than you have fingers? Mercer gives a little snort, turning his gaze back to the building.

"He pays well." With that, he shuts the door and gets up on the bench, urging the horses onward while I relaxed back on the bench inside. The seats were cushioned and covered in velvet and I found myself drifting off. Between Rasa's wedding planning and yesterday's drama, I'm basically running on fumes. I was in that state of half-sleep where the dreams were close when the door suddenly opened, Mercer receiving an armful of surprised woman.

"What the hell?!"

"We're here, Mrs. Norrington," he grunts in response, helping me straighten up. The building we stopped in front of wasn't the modest house James and I lived in, this was a two-story building made of dull brick. "I'm sure you'll enjoy your stay in your new accommodations as long as you don't mind the mice." Knowing I had no chance of outrunning the guy, I lead the way inside and down the stairs to the cells, standing in front of the one Rasa's occupying until a guard unlocked it and allowed me inside. With a satisfied nod once the door of my cell was secure Mercer turns on his heel and walks out, leaving me alone with my fellow prisoners and nothing entertaining to do.

"You might as well get comfortable," Carl remarks, leaning his back against the wall of his cell and closing his eyes.

"Are you alright, darling," James asks, reaching through the bars to take my hand once I was sitting. I give him a reassuring smile and a nod, leaning my head back against the wall. With a deep breath and some concentration, I summon my iPod and some speakers, bobbing my head along to the familiar song. Music was a guaranteed way to relax and I definitely needed to do that before I stroked out.

“ _In constant sorrow all through his days_ ,” I sing as loud as I can. “ _I am a man of constant sorrow, I’ve seen trouble all my days. I bid farewell to old Kentucky, the place where I was born and raised. The place where he was born and raised._ ” Rasa joins in with Carl, both of them singing softly as I began to drift off again. _“For six long years, I’ve been in trouble, no pleasure here on Earth I’ve found. For in this world I’m bound to ramble, I have no friends to help me now…”_

And then I was sound asleep, lost to dreams I'd rather not have.

**_I stare down at my hands, not really paying attention to what Beckett was saying; something about having the wedding pushed back until my father returned. It had been a long night in the Beckett household and I had gotten very little sleep once Beckett had finished with me. Most would call it rape, but Beckett said it was merely taking what belonged to him a few days ahead of schedule. The servants knew better than to gossip lest they wanted to disappear permanently with a little help from Mister Mercer._ **

**_"Have you heard a single thing I just said, Katherine," Beckett demands, taking my chin in his grasp and forcing me to look at him._ **

**_"I'm sorry, sir, my thoughts were elsewhere." Beckett frowns, tilting his head to the side as he continues to look at me. I fight to hold his gaze evenly, my every instinct screaming at me to lower my eyes again. Beckett doesn't like to be challenged, especially not by a woman, but my father always taught me not to falter under a man's gaze. I needed to be strong if I wanted to survive this marriage, I want to be strong so I can be like my father and brother._ **

**_"I told you to call me Cutler, it's perfectly fine now that we are engaged." I nod, biting my lip in a nervous habit. His looks down at my mouth, noting what I was doing with those calculating eyes of his. Swiftly, he bends his head down to capture my lips with his, the kiss bruising and demanding. "From now on, I shall be the only one to have you," he murmurs against my lips, the fingers of his left hand tangled in my dark hair. On instinct, I push at his chest to get him away, I needed space or I may just faint. "Do you hate my touch so much that you would fight to get away?"_ **

**_“Yes,” I snarl, emotions bubbling up inside me,” I would fight every day of my life to keep you from touching me again!” His eyes darken and he delivers a hard slap that knocked me off the window seat and to the ground._ **

**_“You need to learn your place in this world, Miss Sparrow.”_ **

**_“I will kill you one day, Beckett, and I will take my time.”_ **

I wake with a gasp, looking around for Beckett as my heart beat wildly in my chest. It's dark now and someone was opening the door to my cell, a guard with a few other people behind him.  _Has Beckett sent for me? Is he going to do those awful things to me again?_  Shaking, I edge backwards in my cell, huddling up in a dark corner. Maybe if I made myself small, the guard would think he had the wrong cell.

"Kit," a man hisses," we have to move quickly if you want to get out of here alive." I stare at the Governor with wide eyes, unsure if I was seeing things right. James moves past him and picks me up, carrying me out the back way of the jail where we were less likely to be seen; Weatherby, Carl, and Terasa following behind him. James helps me into the carriage and climbs in after me, pulling me close to him as my friends join us and Weatherby takes up the reigns.

"Where are we goin'," I ask, wrapping my arms around myself and leaning against my husband.

"Away from here," Terasa assures me, now dressed in black jeans, a dark burgundy tee with a black jacket over that, and sturdy black boots. With her hair tucked under a tricorn hat similar to Jack's, she looked like a teenage boy. "You should change, too." Carl covers his eyes and I shrug, summoning an outfit that would help me blend in with the darkness; ripped black jeans, a black and red sweatshirt, black jacket, and boots. It was hard to change in the cramped space, but I managed eventually.

"Okay, you can open your eyes now." Carl lowers his hands and opens his eyes, peering out the small window as we pull up to the docks. I notice as Carl's entire body goes tense, my own following suit soon after in reaction. "What is it?"

"Beckett's goon," he answers immediately, pulling his own coat tighter around him. "We have to get out of here right now because the Governor's buddy just bought it." Rasa moves quickly, opening the carriage door and climbing out, Carl and James quickly following suit while I hesitated inside. "Aren't you coming?" I bite my lip, looking back over my shoulder out the window, watching as Mercer and Weatherby spoke.  _If I could get a pardon for my family, then we're home free_.

"No, I have a plan." Carl nods, sprinting away with Rasa before anyone would notice and shout for help. With a sharp huff, James climbs back into the carriage and shuts the door right as Mercer yanks the other one open, his gloved hand easily pulling me out. James climbs back out as well, letting out a grunt when an EITC soldier grabs him by his long hair, another one holding me tightly.

"Where are the rest of 'em," Mercer questions darkly.

"Who," Weatherby asks, playing the fool. Mercer moves quickly, grabbing the Governor by the front of his cloak and shoving him up against the carriage. I draw in a sharp breath, struggling to go to my adopted father's aid. "The only people I had in that carriage were James and Katherine, and you have them here." Mercer looks at me over his shoulder, studying my face for anything that might tell him otherwise and finding nothing that would betray the Governor.

"Take them to Lord Beckett." The soldier holding me gives Mercer a curt nod, dragging me to a new carriage that carried Jamie and me off to the fort. If Beckett is still in his office at this hour, then he's still a workaholic like he was when we first met eight years ago. The soldier leads the way to Beckett's study, leaving us at the entrance to face the evil man inside by ourselves. With a deep breath to steady my nerves, I enter the office alone, knowing James would only react angrily to what might happen.

It's dark inside, the only light coming from a single lantern set on the desk, the dying fire, and the moonlight coming in from the open balcony doors. "You knew they would come." It wasn't a question, but I nodded my reply all the same. Beckett inspects me over his glass of expensive brandy, looking for flaws or weakness. "Have you finally come to your senses and decided to marry me?" I move towards him, eyeing him carefully. He's standing beside the fireplace, soaking up the warmth it offered, dressed in the same clothes as earlier minus the coat

"No, I wouldn't marry you if my life depended on it," I answer, itching for a knife or a pen, anything I could use to hurt him. He reaches out to grasp my left hand, examining my wedding ring in the low light with a slight frown.

"Such a plain ring, I could give you one that would make you faint from the sheer beauty of it." I scoff, shoving his hand away. "Why are you still here, Katherine?"

"I want what was promised, I want the pardons." If I got those, then my family would be safe to come home again.

"I'm afraid your friends got the letters of Marque first." Grinding my teeth in anger, I turn to leave the room only to be stopped by Lord Beckett grabbing my arm. All the frustration that has been building up in the past two days reaches its boiling point, being released when I kick Beckett hard in his stomach. He falls, knocking a chair over, the noise bringing a large man into the room. A man, I might add, that’s much larger than anyone else I’ve ever met.

"My lord," he asks, looking between me and the other man as James barges inside as well.

"Get her," Beckett gasps out, clutching his midsection.  _Holy shit_. James charges forward, trying hard to restrain the giant only to be thrown sideways, colliding with the wall and going limp. I try my best to dodge the large man, even going so far as to scramble up on his back, cutting off his oxygen until he grabs the back of my jacket and pulls me over his head. He holds me tightly with my feet dangling in the air as Beckett pulls a brand out of the fire, walking over to me at a languid pace. "I believe you know what happens to pirates?"

"No," I gasp out, struggling harder. Beckett's grin reminded me of the wolf from Little Red Riding Hood right before he ate Red for dinner. My eyes focus on the glowing metal, fear making me whimper despite how I was trying hard to remain quiet, to keep him from having that satisfaction.

"Perhaps after tonight you'll understand why your father no longer wanted you, Katherine." With his free hand, he lifts my shirt, pressing the brand firmly against my lower stomach, the smell of burning flesh and the agonizing pain quickly making me go limp in unconsciousness.


	12. Fiery Words

—Terasa—

The ship Carl and I sneak on is a small one, but with plenty of places to hide my wedding dress. Night has fallen and most of the men are below deck, sleeping or drinking, they didn't notice Carl and I join them. While the men were distracted, I shove my wedding dress between a couple of barrels, letting out a disappointed sigh as the silk wrinkles. That dress cost almost as much as my car and now I couldn’t even wear it to get married in.

"Don't look so sad," Carl shrugs, handing me a mug of ale," it's just a dress."

"Yeah, my  _wedding_  dress, those things tend to be important to women," I frown, taking a long drink from my mug and coughing a little. I drink less often than Kit does and it won't take much to get me drunk. “Where are we off to anyway?”

“Tortuga will be our best bet, though I have to warn you that it’s an entire island filled with drunkards and prostitutes.” He’s smiling as he pictures it, looking like an excited puppy that just got a new toy or a treat. It was the first time in a while that he’s looked genuinely comfortable and it was nice to see.

“Nice, that’s just….” I let out a long sigh and stare into the contents of my mug. “Awesome. I’m gonna go crash.”

“I’ll be right behind you in a minute.” I nod, setting the ale aside and moving to curl up in an empty hammock. It didn’t take long for me to drift off, dreaming of how my wedding should’ve gone with sunny skies and my husband grinning down at me.

Six hours later found me waking to the sound of arguing, squinting around the mostly empty room. It couldn’t be more than five in the morning, far too early to deal with whatever bullshit was going on up on deck. Grumbling, I stuff my long hair back into the itchy hat and walk up the stairs to see what in the hell was going on.

Two men have a hold on my dress, fighting to get it away from the other and yelling about spirits. _I’ll introduce my boot to their asses if they tear that_ silk. Apparently the Captain was pissed about it too, because he stormed out of his cabin and over to the ruckus immediately. "If you both like the dress, you'll just have to share and wear it one after the other," Captain Bellamy smiles sarcastically, crossing his arms over his chest.

"It's not like that, sir," the smaller man states. "The ship is haunted." The Captain seems unconvinced, looking at the two men in amusement.

"Is it now?"

"Aye," the larger man confirms," there's a female presence here with us, sir. Everyone feels it." The other sailors throw in their two cents, speaking of ghosts and virgins. Last I checked I still have a pulse and I haven't been a virgin since high school, so these loons need to broaden their theories.

"We need to throw it overboard and the spirit will go with it." The smaller man tugs the dress out of the large guy's hands, moving closer to the railing.  _Damn right I'll go with it, that dress is expensive!_  "If we don't, this ship will taste the icy waters in a fortnight, mark my words!" The larger man tugs back on the dress, a different explanation already forming on his lips.

"No, no that would just anger the spirit!"

"Enough," Bellamy shouts, having heard enough from the superstitious old goats. "This appears to me that we have nothing more than a stowaway on board; a young woman judging from this dress." He takes said dress from his men, stroking the fabric a little in appreciation of it's obvious worth. "Bursar, Quartermaster, why don't the two of you search for our passenger?" The two men shuffle uncertainly, looking down at the deck and growing pale. "Alright then, all of you men, there is a young woman on board this vessel and I want her found! She's probably naked." That got the men moving, myself included as I faked haste looking for myself.

"You know," Carl whispers to me while we search," I've always wanted to see you naked, now I might get the chance." Smiling, I smack his shoulder and move over to the barrels, lifting the lids off of them and looking inside. After a while with no results, the men conclude that my dress belonged to a ghost all along, grumbling about bad omens and the like. I smile at my reluctant friend, an idea beginning to form as to how we would get to Tortuga. "I know that smile, it means you wanna do something fun."

"Remember that time when you and Kit were eight and her brother's girlfriend told the two of you a ghost story that scared the shit out of Kit?" Carl nods, not following where I was going. "And what did you do as revenge that made the girlfriend run for the hills?"

"We made a little Scrappy Trap so that every time Kit's bedroom door opened the lights went out and scary music... Started to play." He has a smile on his face now as he starts to catch on, the false memory clear in his mind. "Are we going to scare these people into going to Tortuga?" I nod with a grin of my own.

"We need some wire and sticks, and some hope that I remember how to work a marionette wouldn't hurt any." He nods, the grin still in place as we continue to move around the ship, looking for good places to hide my dress once we steal it back from the Captain. "How have you been since I last saw you?"

"Fine."

"That was a little quick." The tips of his ears turn a bit red as he takes a lid off a barrel of spices, digging through the stuff without really paying attention. "CJ, if the urge to get drunk is getting hard to resist—"

"Don't call me that," he hisses, green eyes dark as he turns on me. I couldn't help the gasp of fear that leaves me, the look of unrestrained anger on his face looking out of place. I've never seen him this angry before and I'll be the first admit that it's scary as hell. It's like his entire body changed with the anger, knuckles white as he clutches at the barrel, shoulders hunched forward slightly, and his teeth grinding. Once he recognized the fear in my eyes he begins to relax again, rolling his shoulders back and slipping into the cool nonchalance that I usually associated with him. "This looks like a good place to hide your dress."

"What was that?"

"Nothing I want to talk about with you. We don't like each other, remember? Don't go gettin' soft on me now, Sterling."

"Wouldn't dream of it, McGee."

Later that night finds me straddling the rigging high above the deck, lowering my wedding dress until it floated above the deck by wire and the broken broomstick I held in my hands. It's a good thing I paid attention when that marionette lady came to school or Carl and I would've been screwed. Biting my lip in concentration, I make the dress pass by the Captain's window, letting it sway as if there really was a person wearing it. The three men inside the cabin quickly come outside, watching my dress as I move it across the deck, out over the waters, and then back again.

"Tell me you see that," the cook says, joining the other sailors in watching the dress.

"Aye," Bellamy nods," I see it." I move the dress again, letting it stop by the Bowsprit, using a separate piece of wood and fishing wire to lift the arm of my dress, pointing in the direction or Tortuga. "She's tryin' to give us a sign."

I nod down at Carl and he whispers,"  _Tortuga_." It sounded like the wind, but it was too faint for the men to really understand. " _Tortuga_."

"Bermuda," Bursar asks in confusion.

"Tobago," adds the Quartermaster. Wondering how stupid people could be, I send the dress flying again, knocking over a lantern on the oil Carl had poured out earlier, the word _Tortuga_ being spelled out in flames. The crew don't notice the small fire and run over to the railing, looking for anything that might be interpreted as a sign.  _What a bunch of morons_. Carl rolls his eyes, joining the men at the railing.

"Men, quickly, over here," he shouts, pointing down at the fire. Bellamy looks at the word in fear and hard resolve.

"Well, men, what do you say to a change of course?" It's a good thing I have a good control on my impatience and that Carl got their attention because I was five seconds away from screaming that they're all morons and we need to head to the free port outside of the Navy's jurisdiction.

 _And off to Turtle we go_.


	13. Welcome To Turtle

—Katherine—

I grin up at James as we walk, the noise and stench of Tortuga easily ignorable as long as we didn't stand still for too long. Sure, there were moments when I had to put on my threatening face when a prostitute tried to get in Jamie's pants, but that helped to keep my mind off the burning pain in my lower abdomen. Almost two weeks later and the brand still hurts like a bitch. James notices me covering the wound with a hiss, giving the hand he has a gentle squeeze.

"You'll have to get more of that salve from Mister Gibbs," he says when I look up at him.

"I know, I'm just not looking forward to the stuff being applied," I reply with a frown, though I can't frown long when I feel a small weight land on my right shoulder. The happy chirp assures me that it's only Watson and the small prick of his talons is familiar. He chirps again, looking at James until my husband releases my hand.

"Is it possible for birds to glare?"

"Oh please, Watson's not that bad."

"He likes you, but I fear he'll peck me to death in my sleep." I laugh, bumping James with my hip as we approach the Faithful Bride. "I don't even understand why he doesn't like me considering I'm the one that brought him to our house in the first place  _and_  went after him once I booked us passage to this bloody island."

"Animals know when they're around animal lovers, Jamie."

"But I like animals." I give him a disbelieving look, laughing a little as he opens the tavern door for me. "What? I was around plenty of animals growing up."

"You had, like, one pet your entire life."

"Alright, and how many have you had?"

"Seventeen and counting."

"Animals you ended up eating on your father's ship don't count." I bite my lip, shifting through the fractured memories as I try and figure out how many animals I nursed before Jack started taking me out on the  _Fair Wind_  and  _Wicked Wench_  with him.

"About six, then." At the look James sends my way, I give a little shrug. "What? I used to live in the country with a nanny when I was little and we had a lot of animals that sort of wandered up to the house. My favorite by far was this little garden snake that I named Bubbles, he was a sweet little guy."

"What do you mean you don't know where they are," someone shouts, heard even over all the noise happening inside the tavern. "How the actual fuck do you lose two entire human beings?!"

"Hey, that sounds just like Rasa did that night she bailed me out of jail." James sends me another look and I return it with a shit-eating grin. "It's a long story that I promise to tell you someday, but all you have to know right now is that tequila shots and a mascot costume were involved." I pat his shoulder as we make our way to the table set up in the corner, spotting two familiar people yelling at Jack.

"Norrington's gone, too," Jack asks before slapping Gibbs's arm with a glare. “I told you not to let them run off together! What's the use in having you if you can't keep the garbage from defiling my daughter?!"

"He means garbage in a good way," I try as we come to a stop, having trouble not laughing at the irritated expression on James's face. If this was a TV show, then he'd be looking at the camera right about now.

"No I don't, I mean it in the worst possible way. Where the hell have you been, young lady?"

"Walking, talking, punching hookers."

"Just girly things," Carl quips with a smile, pulling me into a one-armed hug. I wrap an arm around his waist and rest my head against his chest with a smile, breathing in the familiar scent of his aftershave and cigarettes.

"You understand me so well, brother mine."

"Yeah, that's why you guys are usually arrested at the same time," Rasa adds, scowling at the both of us from her position on the table. Despite her scowl, I can still see the corner of her mouth twitching as she resisted a smile, turning her pale eyes to Jack. The second she looked at him, he was out of his seat and heading for the doors. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Somewhere important, I'll decide on the way," he throws over his shoulder, outright running for the door when Terasa starts after him. That probably won't end well for either of those two; Jack's a scrapper and Terasa is too stubborn to lose, but it'll be fun for the rest of us to watch.  _Saturday night smack down showcases: Terasa 'go getter' Sterling and Jack 'despicable bastard' Sparrow_. I let out a snort of laughter, honestly amused for the first time in a while.

"Should I be concerned that my wife just laughed for no reason," James inquires with a small smile.

"Nah," Carl assures him," she's got a constant mental commentary going at all hours of the day and some bits are genuinely funny." James lets out an offended noise when Carl pets Watson, the bird actually leaning into Carl's touch instead of nipping at his fingers.

"That settles it, the bird is no longer welcome near me."

"He'd probably find that quite agreeable," I muse with a wicked grin," but the two of you will have to keep your hate at a minimum around me since I happen to love you both. Plus, I really love looking at you naked." I smack his ass on my way out, grinning even more when he lets out a surprised yelp and my brother makes a sound of disgust.

I was nearly to the door when a hand lands on my shoulder and forcefully spins me around. On instinct during the motion, I pull out the dagger from my assailant's sheath and hold it under their chin once the motion is complete, finding myself staring right at Mercer, the man not even flinching as the cold steel touches his throat.

"Why are you here," I demand, voice as steady as my hand. I've done this a lot when I worked with Carl, leading criminals to their deaths or interrogating them when Carl's nerves were too frayed. Death was nothing new, just something that claims us all at some point or another.

"Lord Beckett sent me to watch you," he answers in a bored tone. "He doesn't like his investments wandering off without notice."

"I do  _not_  belong to Beckett." Mercer chuckles darkly, shaking his head and making his blade nick the skin of his throat. "Believe it or not, not all of us aspire to be your master's lap dog like you have. Some of us have a little something called dignity." Moving quicker than I could predict, Mercer has the dagger knocked out of my hand and one of his hands around my throat, pinning me in place against a support beam, but not cutting off my air supply. I dig my nails into his wrist, trying to pry the hand away, but succeeding in nothing.

"That brand on your side would suggest otherwise, Mrs. Norrington. Lord Beckett thought you'd like a deal to make all of this unpleasantness go away: bring him the compass and the charges against you and your husband will disappear. If you do not, then a warrant will go out for your capture and all of you will face the gallows."

"What about the others? I won't say yes until I know they'll be safe, too."

"They have their own deals to worry about." With that he takes his leave, disappearing back into the shadows. Almost absently, I rub my sore throat as I stare at the wall across from me, thoughts running haywire. If those three have their own deal, then they must have come to terms while stealing the letters for Jack. My main concern right now should be if Beckett would keep his word or just screw us over even further. Deciding there was a fifty-fifty chance either way, I straighten up and march out of the tavern.

The others are out on the docks in front of the ship; Rasa talking at Jack, Jack sending James dirty looks, and James standing off to the side ignoring all of them. Honestly, the fact that none of them were dead yet was more than I expected. "Why are you even here," Jack demands of James as I join them, brows furrowed. "I never said you could come with us."

"I'm not letting my wife run around with pirates," James sneers back, shrugging off the hand Carl had placed on his shoulder.

"I'm her father, I'm the one that's taking care of her."

"It's your fault she had to be sent away in the first place! I wouldn't trust her with you to just take a walk around a garden, Sparrow." I've never seen Jack this angry before, not even that one time I slipped a frog down the front of his breeches to hide it from the cook. Jack's lips press into a firm line, eyes going hard and cold as he stares my husband down.  _Nice to know that I get my angry looks from Jack_. Knowing the situation would only escalate from here, I step between the two men, a hand on each of their chests, and give them my best stern gaze.

"If you two can't get along in the next five seconds, I'll tie your damn hands together," I state, using my Mom voice. "Now apologize to each other." I don't move, not wanting to risk Jack breaking my husband's nose. Jack glares down at his boots and James scoffs, crossing his arms and staring off in the distance at the pirates loading supplies. "Let me put that another way, apologize or I'll talk very loudly about my past sexual encounters."

"Sorry..."

"Please accept my apologies, Squishy," Jack practically shouts at the same time, both of them looking mortified and not meeting my gaze. I pass Carl a smug grin over James's shoulder, my brother returning it with a snort of laughter. He knows I've only had sex twice before coming here, so it would've been a very short punishment. "He stills smells funny, though."

"That's soap, Sparrow, something I'm sure you know little about." Beyond irritated, I elbow James in the stomach, glowering at him even as he doubles over in surprise. Of all the people in our group, I had expected James to be the one to let the comments slide off him, but it seems he can be just as childish as the other men in my life.

_Boy, do I know how to pick 'em._

"Jack," Terasa starts, interrupting Jack's fit of laughter," stop with the shit and tell me where my fiancé is. Will owes me a wedding and you're not gonna get him out of it because one of your plans went all screwy."

"Is finding young William what you really want most in this world," Jack inquires with a faint smile. Jack had that cunning gleam in his eyes, the same one Carl got whenever he thought up a clever lie to keep himself out of trouble. _What is going on in that weird, messed up head of his that has him looking at my best friend like that?_  It's discomforting to say the least and I'm half-tempted to call him out on it.

"No, what I want most is to go to a boy band concert." The sarcasm was almost a physical thing and the glare she sent Jack's way had his bottom lip poking out in a pout. "Of course finding Will is what I want most, you dip!" She slaps the back of his head with enough force to make him stumble, his bandana lopsided. "You gonna tell me what the hell you did to him or am I gonna have to burn every ounce of rum on your ship?"

"You wouldn't dare." She raises an eyebrow, lips pursed as she gives him the look that means she's about to hit below the belt, rum burning in this case. "You really would, wouldn't you?" Her other brow raises now and she adjusts her stance to walk towards the ship, but Jack quickly grabs her arm to stop her. "Alright, just leave the rum be!"

"God I'm good."

"That's an understatement if ever I've heard one." He shakes his head and points my way, sending Rasa an accusing look. "And you've rubbed off on my daughter, so I have you to thank for her threats."

"You tell me what you did to Will or I'll give you a real threat." She was quickly growing fed up with Jack's stalling tactics and he knew it, sighing and grumbling a response under his breath. "What was that?"

"I said that what happened to Will doesn't matter." Jack waves off her angry expression, continuing to talk before she had the chance to speak up again. "What matters is that I have a way to save him, but you'll have to want that more than anything else in the world. Do you think you can manage?" She nods, a small crease forming between her brows as she thinks over Jack's words. "What we need is a chest of unknown size and origin that possess the heart of Davy Jones."

"None of you actually believe him, do you," James interjects, scowling at my father from a few feet away.

"Quiet, Squishy, I'm helping the lass." Clearing his throat, Jack slips back into storytelling mode, leaning forward slightly with the rest of us—James excluded—following suit. "It's said that the person that controls the heart will control Davy Jones as well, able to make him bend to their every whim, including releasing a man who may or may not be on his ship." He takes in our interested expressions before bringing his compass into view, holding it in the open palm of his hand. "The only sure way to find the chest is with this. This compass is unique—"

" _Unique_  here having the meaning of  _broken_."

"It doesn't point north, true enough, but it does point the way to what you want most in this world." I grab the compass from his hand, flipping it open and watching as the arrow spins in a circle a couple of times before finally pointing towards James. "You see? It does work even though I disapprove of my daughter's priorities." Smiling, I hand the compass off to Rasa before looping my arm with James's, leading him aboard the  _Pearl_  and into my cabin.

There were two beds, a changing screen, and a small nightstand that was shoved into the spacious room, the window on the right wall shuttered tightly to keep the moonlight out; the beds were only twin-sized, meant for Carl and me when we were younger, so James and I would have to squeeze into the one on the left, the two beds separated by the nightstand. I go to the chest at the foot of my bed, digging through it to find a nightgown before disappearing behind the changing screen to put it on. It has to be almost midnight by now and I'm ready to drop.

When I come back out, James is sitting on the edge of my bed in only his breeches, his dark hair falling just past his shoulders and making him look tanner than he actually is. I give him a soft smile as he sits with his back against the wall and his legs stretched out in front of him, lying next to him on my side. He quickly scoots further down in bed so that I was curled up against him, my head on his chest and one of my arms around his waist as he wraps one around my shoulders to keep me close.

"I love you, Jamie," I whisper, my eyes beginning to close.

"I love you too, Kit."


	14. Sword Fights And Whiplash

—Carl—

I scrub the deck on my hands and knees, watching everyone out of the corner of my eye in case they tried anything; the men haven't been around many women since they signed onto Jack's crew, so I don't want one of them assaulting my sister or Terasa. My gaze is continually drawn back to Katherine, watching her as she watched the sea, noticing that whenever she winced in pain, she placed a hand on the lower right of her stomach. Obviously I can't ask Norrington about her because the other man wasn't fond of me and the fact I left to join Sparrow's crew only made me worse.

Growing agitated with not knowing, I walk over to where Kit is leaning against the railing, pulling the bottom of her shirt and loose corset up to see what was causing her so much pain, but I wasn't prepared for what I found. The letter B was branded into her side, the pale skin around it a dark red and slightly swollen, but not infected. It was no wonder why she was hurting and I wonder who'd been able to hold the little wild cat still long enough to accomplish the mark.

"Who did this to you," I demand, seeing red as my temper spiked. Katherine pushes me away slightly, quickly pulling the shirt back down with a blush on her cheeks.

"Don't make a scene," she growls, the look on her face enough to make me feel like a complete imbecile. Of course she wouldn't want the others to know, they might make the situation worse, but at that moment I didn't care. I wanted everyone to know so that the chance of killing the bastard was greater than if it was just me. Katherine must have interpreted my look because she gives me another look that meant if I even thought about yelling at her about it that I would need medical treatment afterward. "Beckett and I didn't see eye to eye." Before I could question her further, Jack runs over, giving my sister a lazy grin.

"Kitty, why don't you go get me the bottle of rum that's on my desk," he suggests in a tone that brooked no argument. Kit bites her lip, looking ready to refuse out of principal, but she shrugs and walks away. Once she had entered Jack's cabin, the pirate turned on me with a look that matched Katherine's earlier one. "Beckett did it to her before she and Norrington could get out." His voice had dropped so that only the two of us could hear and I knew that Jack was even angrier than me. "She's embarrassed that she couldn't fight off the giant that held her still, so she doesn't want to talk about it at all."

I lower my head, biting my tongue so I don't scream about it and draw attention to us. The last thing I wanted was to be on my sister's shit list, but I'd have Beckett's head for this. I'll make the man scream for days before ending his miserable life, and I would make sure Beckett confessed everything he did to Kit.

"How could you let her anywhere near Beckett in the first place?"

"He was better at hiding his cruelty back then and your sister found him charming. One night he sent me to deliver cargo and told me that if I didn't comply that he would have Mercer cut Katherine's throat while she slept. I just thought he was using her as leverage, I had a plan to deliver the cargo and then steal her away and hide her in Shipwreck Cove with your grandfather, but then I discovered that my cargo was one hundred slaves. I set them free and sailed back as soon as I could, but he'd already put his hands on her." Jack's voice cracks near the end and he has to clear his throat and blink a few times to keep tears of shame from falling.

"I snuck her out in the middle of the night and brought her to Teague," he continues," but when I was on my way to get you, Beckett caught up and had my ship put to the torch. Even after I made that deal with Jones, I couldn't go back to visit her because it would've led Beckett right to her, so I went to...  _Her_  instead, asked her to send you two to the same realm she sent Terasa without all the painful memories. I only sent you two away to keep you both safe. Say what you will about my methods, but I'm not as awful a parent as some people believe."

"I never believed you were an awful parent, Jack." I shake my head and stare down at my boots, hands clenching and unclenching. "You wouldn't believe how excited I was to finally meet you when I was ten, to know that my father was a respectable man that would take care of me, to know that I had a sister I could share stories with. And I know Kit, she's happy to have you even if she doesn't show it."

"What are you two talking about," Kit asks suspiciously when she rejoins us, the bottle in her grasp.

"Taxes," Jack blurts out at the same time I say," Persians." She arches a brow and gives the two of us an amused look, lips pressed together to keep from smiling.

"Uh," I start with a huff of laughter," you know how those Persians are with their taxes; totally deplorable with their dagger stealing and their... Ostrich racing."

"Uh-huh, sure." She passes the bottle off to Jack and pats my shoulder before walking off, whistling a familiar tune to let me know for sure that she understood that reference. Jack and I share a look and a shrug, both of us heading up to the helm where Rasa was relaxing, giving out occasional directions to Gibbs.

"Scooch over." When Rasa doesn't move from her spot in the chaise lounge she'd summoned, I pick up her feet and set them in my lap, just enjoying the warm sunshine on my face. Having Rasa and Kit here with me made the temptation to drink a little less pressing, their constant distractions helping keep my mind off how good the rum would taste. I haven't had a drink since we were marooned and it's been a constant struggle to stay sober ever since, my hands shaking anytime I got a whiff of any sort of alcohol and my mouth feeling dry whenever I thought about it.

It would be so easy to fall off the wagon since most of the crew didn't care, but the thing that kept me from slipping was the small drawing tucked into my pants pocket that my son had given me that last time I saw him.

He was safe in the other realm, probably wondering why I haven't been to see him in so long, but he has no idea that he's a source of courage. His bright smile and the way he puts all of his weight into his hugs whenever I walk into his house; it made my heart hurt to know that I probably won't see him again unless I'm sent back.

The sound of singing draws me out of the depressing thoughts, my eyes immediately seeking out the noise and finding Katherine pacing around the deck, expertly weaving between the sailors as she sang under her breath with Watson flying after her. I love that little shit, especially since he likes Norrington even less than I do.

" _Look for the bare necessities, the simple bare necessities, forget about your worries and your strife. I mean the bare necessities, old mother nature's recipes that bring the bare necessities to life_." Kit usually sings when she's bored or concentrating and I've long since grown used to the random songs that drifted out of her room when she was studying for finals.

I wonder if she misses her nephew as much as I do, if she wishes she could cuddle with him under the stars and tell him fairy tales. She used to keep him whenever she wanted to unwind, just watching old movies with him or playing with his toy cars; she's good with kids and I know Richard loved her. Her responsibility where kids are concerned is the reason she's Richard's godmother, but it doesn't hurt that she spoils him rotten.

"Where are you, Bub," Kit asks as she joins us, sitting cross-legged on the floor across from me.

"With my baby," I answer quietly, meeting her gaze and matching her soft smile. "He'd be four now, I missed two birthdays." I have to bite my lip to keep it from quivering, staring down at my hands clasped in my lap. I don't notice Kit moving until her hands covered mine, a slight tremor in them telling me that she feels the loss, too. The most unexpected thing came from Rasa when she sat up and wrapped her arms around me in a hug.

"We'll get you back to him, Carl," Terasa promises," I don't care if I have to shank everyone with magic, I'm going to get you back to your son."

"I have no doubt about that, Rasa." When she pulls back, she has a wicked grin lighting up her face, waggling her eyebrows.

"We should sing the song that drove our history professor to banging his head against his desk." That was an afternoon I would never forget, I'd snuck in the classroom because of all the complaining I'd heard from Rasa and Kit about how mean the professor was. Let's just say that he had to spend a week at one of those technology-free spas after we'd finished with him, and he never talked down to my friends again. "Pretty please with cherries on top?" She was practically bouncing in the seat and Kit was giving me her puppy-dog eyes.

"What kind of monster could reject that idea?" Kit lets out an excited squeal and hops up onto the seat between Terasa and me, using her fingers to count down to when we're supposed to start so we don't mess it up.

" _This is the song that never ends_ ," we sing in unison, laughing as we do it,"  _it just goes on and on, my friend. Some people started singing it not knowing what it was and they'll continue singing it forever just because this is the song that never ends, it just goes on and on, my friend_ —"

"End it," Jack shouts, looking mildly irritated.

"Silly, Jack," Katherine smiles sarcastically," it's the song that never ends." Jack sucks in a breath to say something, but is interrupted by Gibbs' shout of land. He rushes over to the railing to look at the island, fear obvious on his face as he mumbles a curse, tugging anxiously at the coin that dangles from his bandana.

"I want my jar of dirt." It was pathetic really, how scared a grown ass man like Jack was of leaving his ship. While he hurried below deck to get his mysterious jar, the rest of us climb into a longboat, Kit squished between James and me, Terasa seated at the front beside Jack when he finally joins us, and Pintel and Ragetti in charge of rowing us to Isla Cruces. The ride there might not have been so bad had Pintel and Ragetti not spent it arguing over who was rowing too fast or the pronunciation of the work  _Kraken_. Honestly, who cares about how to pronounce the name of the beast that has Jack listed as its main course?

Everyone else was quiet; Terasa and Jack staring at the compass, Kit resting her head on Norrington's shoulder with her eyes closed, Norrington staring fixedly at our destination, and me studying everyone else. The waves were gentle, barely rocking the boat as we come closer and closer to the island, and then it's time to get out, Pintel and Ragetti pulling the boat further up the beach once everyone was out.

"About time," I sigh, stretching my arms above my head and letting out a satisfied noise when my lower back pops.

"Watch the boat, mind the tide, and don't touch my dirt," Jack instructs, patting the jar before grabbing a shovel and walking away. I don't see anything special about it, just a jar half-filled with sand and stoppered at the top. I grab a shovel as well, Norrington following suit as Kit and Terasa run to catch up with Jack, the compass open in Rasa's hand. If I didn't know she was following the arrow, I'd say she was drunk from the way she kept zig-zagging, her finger following it as well.

The island's larger than the last one I was on, including its own shallow water supply that cut the island in half, all but Pintel and Ragetti walking through it to the other side where Rasa began pacing back and forth. "I can't do this," she complains," I just want Will."

"And I want you to find Will," I state," which means I want to find the chest for you, so maybe I can make the compass work." She hands it off to me and flops down in the sand, resting her head against Kit's legs. The arrow spins like crazy at first before finally pointing towards my friends. I slap the side of it a few times, wondering if it was malfunctioning until I stared at the gleaming white sand under Rasa's ass. "Move it."

"Why?" I kick her lightly until she does as I say, getting up and brushing the sun-warmed sand from the back of her ripped jeans. "Jesus, what's the big deal, Carl?"

"Dig where Terasa was sitting, Squishy," Jack commands, joining us from where he'd been perched on a higher dune of sand. He points to the spot, arching a brow at the stubborn look Norrington sends his way. "Come along, you're a married man so I know you're used to following orders." Rolling his eyes, Norrington begins to dig, mouth twisted into a scowl as the rest up us sit down and watch.

"Don't everybody help at once," he complains loudly. In spite of his bad mood, his still laughs a little when Kit grabs a handful of sand from where he's digging and throws it over her shoulder. "Thanks, darling, that's great help."

"Just doing my part," she winks.

"God," I shout, flopping onto my back dramatically with an arm thrown over my eyes," watching my sister flirt is not how I pictured spending a perfectly good Saturday."

After a while, Norrington's shovel hits something, all of us freezing and locking gazes for a minute before scrambling over to the hole, Norrington dropping to his knees to join us. The chest we pull out is at least three feet long, the lock rusty and easily broken when Jack rams the end of his shovel into it.

Inside is a modest wedding dress, the fabric torn and places and yellowed from age, as are the rolls of parchment underneath the dress, their wax seals unbroken, but that's not what caught everyone's interest. Jack pulls out an even smaller chest made of iron, seaweed designs carved into it expertly every two inches. There's a moment of hesitation before we lean in closer, our ears pointed towards the chest until a faint yet strong sound makes all of us pull back in amazement.

 _Thump, thump... Thump, thump_.

"You weren't lying," James says in shock.

"I tell the truth a lot but you people never believe me," Jack responds without taking his eyes off the chest.

"With good reason," a new man responds, all of us looking up to find Will standing a few feet behind Jack. He was dressed in the same clothes he left in, soaking wet and pissed as he glares down at Jack. With a gasp, Terasa races over to him, almost tripping over her own feet before Will could wrap his arms around her to keep her balanced. "Terasa, what are you doing here?"

"I came to save your stupid ass," she replies, voice choked with tears even as she grinned up at him. “Someone has to since you still do what Jack tells you to." After a moment, she pulls back and hits wherever she could as Will brings his hands up to protect his face. "What the hell made you think it was a good idea to board the  _Flying Dutchman_? And don't place the blame squarely on Jack because it takes two idiots to cook this shit up!" And then she pulled him down for a deep kiss, making me let out a noise of disgust.

"Talk about whiplash," Kit mutters, finally standing up like the rest of us and wrapping her arm around Norrington's waist. "She changes emotions one more time and I'm filing a lawsuit."

"I'll witness for you," I offer," but you have to go halfsies." Once the happy couple come up for air, Will walks over to the chest, dropping to his knees in front of it with a plain dagger and a key with two blades coming off the bow.

"Oi," Jack says loudly. “What do you think you're doing?"

"What does it look like," Will shoots back without looking up. “I'm stabbing the heart so I can free my father."  _When the hell did his daddy get involved in all of this? God, I missed out on so much just because I went to Rasa's wedding_. Jack unsheathes his sword and aims it at Will's throat, a solemn expression replacing his earlier confusion.

"Can't let you do that, mate. I happen to have a squid the size of Port Royal coming to make me his evening supper and only Jones can call him off, so you can see my dilemma." Will rises again with a brooding look in Jack's direction. Kit and I share a look, communicating like we've always been able to without saying a word. If a fight breaks out, then our main concern will be keeping Rasa out of the middle of it because Will can handle his own and Jack is crafty enough to live through it. "If you would be so kind as to hand over the key."

"I have a dilemma of my own, Jack." In one smooth motion, he has Terasa's sword in his hand and her behind him, protective even as he points the sword at Jack. "I don't break the promises I make."

"Unless they have anything to do with marriage." I can't hold in a snort at that, covering my mouth to muffle my laugh and walking a few feet away as the standoff continues. Norrington joins the fray, bringing out his sword and seeming to side with Jack as he points it at Will. "I knew he'd warm up to me someday." Jack makes to stand beside Norrington, lowering his sword until Norrington points the sword at him, Will changing to point his sword at Norrington.

"That heart could get me my title back," Squishy explains," it might get Kit and I our pardons, so I can't let either of you have it." Jack hesitates, his sword lowered slightly from where he was pointing it at Will, but then he steels himself and regains his confidence. Kit takes a step forward, gesturing at the chest with a smile.

"I'll be happy to take that off your hands if you don't—" The three men make angry noises and she jumps backwards, quickly joining me up on the dune. "Okay, I tried, have at it." And that's when the fight started, all three of them hacking away at each other and making their way towards the old church. We watch them for a bit, all of our heads tilted to the side when Jack manages to slide between Norrington's legs and kicks him in the ass before continuing the duel.

"Shall we sit," I ask, summoning three beach chairs.

"Might as well." The three of us make ourselves comfortable and sip from bottles of water that Rasa summoned. Watson joins us soon after that, perching on the back of Kit's chair and chirping excitedly about something.

"This was so much cooler in the movie."

—Beckett—

Beckett turns Norrington's old sword in his hand, admiring the craftsmanship while Weatherby stood off to the side watching him. The older man looked pitiful, his sparse white hair stuck to his head from sweat, no longer hidden under his wig; his clothing stained and torn in places from spending a night in jail. "There is something to knowing the exact shape of the world and one's place in it, don't you agree?"

"I assure you,” Swann says, holding up his manacled wrists with a hard look in his eyes,” these are not necessary." Beckett smirks at the old man's words, knowing them to be true simply because Mercer is in the room.

"I had you brought here because I thought you would be interested in knowing the whereabouts of your two wards." He perks up at that, looking hopeful and scared all in one.

"You have news?" Beckett points his sword at Mercer, signaling for the scarred man to begin speaking, which he did immediately.

"They were most recently spotted in Tortuga. Left in the company of known pirate, Jack Sparrow, and other fugitives from justice."

"Including the former owner of this sword, I believe," Beckett adds, shoving the sword back into its sheathe. Swann scoffs and rolls his eyes, a gesture of disrespect that Beckett notices and takes in stride. "Our ships are in pursuit, and justice will be dispensed by cannonade and cutlass, and all manner of remorseless pieces of metal. I personally find it distasteful to even contemplate the horror facing all those on board. Unless, of course, I deem a certain few valuable enough to be taken prisoner and held for questioning."

"What do you want from me," Swann demands, his hope looking almost burnt out. He is in the place Beckett needs him in—enough hope to believe Beckett wouldn't go back on his word once he had what he wanted, but not enough that he would take his chances on Jack Sparrow's resourcefulness. Beckett smirks again, moving to place the sheathe back in the plain wooden box it arrived in.

"It's simple really, your authority as Governor, the respect you command in London, and your promise that you will talk Katherine into divorcing Norrington." She wasn't necessarily pretty by any standards and he could do without her attitude, but Katherine belonged to him and he didn't like to share. "Now, shall I have those shackles removed?" Swann considers the cost for a moment, but Beckett knew what his answer would be. Swann would save the two women he had taken in out of kindness and grown to love, even if it meant damaging his reputation and his pride.

"Do what you can for my wards." The moment Mercer had removed the irons, Beckett had Swann's hand in his to shake on their deal before the old man could refuse.

"So you see, Mercer? Every man has a price he will gladly accept, even for what he hoped never to sell."


	15. Release The Kracken

—Katherine—

I never thought I could possibly boast about fighting a guy with fish parts instead of people parts, but, hey, it couldn't possibly be any weirder than fighting skeleton pirates or changing dimensions. I mean, it's weird as all get out, but zombies win every time; at least these guys can be disemboweled and slowed down.

At least this time I wasn't so panicked that I didn't think of summoning a gun, deciding on a small Walther P.22, the model of pistol I've been shooting since I was old enough to hold it by myself. It was completely natural to handle the pistol, the weight familiar and the recoil expected. There was a slight burning when an empty shell came out and popped my arms and chest from time to time, but it was more akin to getting a light pinch compared to what it would feel like to have a piece of driftwood thrust into my belly.

Much like the zombies, there was a pattern these guys followed, a sort of controlled chaos that was easy to read. Spend a month in the same house as Carl when he's interrogating someone and, once you learn to ignore pained shouts and random bits of cursing, you could understand most patterns. The cast of SpongeBob extras were charging all at once, but in controlled groups that would have overpowered us if we hadn't spent so long in that other dimension.

While they were skilled in stabbing motions, all I have to do is squeeze the trigger and watch them stumble backwards when the bullet hits their chests. Some of them stayed down for a while, but most got right back up and advanced on us, the cycle repeating over and over again until a huge ass wheel of some sort rolled past us, everyone pausing to watch as it flipped over sideways in the water.

"Tell me I'm not the only who saw that."

"You're not," Carl confirms, his back pressed against mine as we pick the fighting up again," it was pretty neat, though. You might want to go rescue your hubby!" I cut my gaze back to the wheel, finding James pulling himself over it and swaying as he looked around him in confusion. "I'll cover you."

"Thanks, CJ!" Together, we make our way over to James, shooting the things closest to us until the battle thinned out closer to the wheel. James was still swaying even as I laid a hand on his arm, helping him find balance again after his long ride. "Are you okay?"

"Never been better," he answers with a smile, though he still looked a little green. "Actually, now that you mention it, I think I'm getting too old for this sort of thing." Snorting, I continue to fight, aiming for throats, chests, and heads, trying my damnedest to keep them back as Jamie stumbles away from me. He makes it as far as our boat before collapsing against it, dry heaving and letting out a pathetic groan.

"Ya know," Terasa laughs when she makes it by my side, using a shovel to bash people's heads in," if you had a cricket bat, this could be just like that movie you made me watch."

"The parallels are stunning," I agree breathlessly, tossing the pistol aside when I run out of ammo and picking up an oar that had floated over to me. "Do you think we'll actually survive this?"

"Probably not, but you have to admit that it's been fun." There was no denying that, I haven't been this hyped up about something since my wedding night. "What the shit, Sparrow?!" I turn, spotting Will lying unconscious half in the boat and Jack standing beside him with the other oar in hand. I didn't have to be Sherlock Holmes to figure out what happened there. "You don't knock your ally unconscious during a battle like this!"

"He was still stumbling around," Jack shouts back, knocking one of Jones' crew upside the head with his weapon," wouldn't have been of any use!" All of us move closer to the boat, James sandwiching me between him and Rasa as the three of us stood in front of Will to keep him alive.

"We're so fucked," Carl groans as the men continue to get up despite their obvious wounds. "Whose bright idea was it to fight over the chest when we could be sailing away right now?" Jack takes a moment to point at James, trying his best to feign innocence in all of this.

"That was Norrington, I believe."

"I was the last one to draw my sword, thanks very much," James snaps irritably," and you should be more than happy for what I'm about to do." He had a coldness about him, like he was steeling himself for something bad about to happen. I would think it was because of our impending death or dismemberment, but what comes out of his mouth next has me whacking him in the stomach with my oar. "I'll take the chest and lure them away."

"The hell you will," I snap, the flat end of the oar connecting with his midsection hard enough to make him double over with a grunt. "I'm not gonna let you commit suicide after how hard I worked to keep you with me after the hurricane incident!" He gives me a long look, resting one of his hands over the hidden pocket inside his jacket, eyes cutting from the boat and back to me.  _Does he have the compass?_  It's the only thing that makes sense considering Jack wouldn't notice being pickpocketed at a time like this. "I'm coming with you."

"No," Carl and Jack snap in unison.

"Woman, I'll beat you black and blue," Terasa warns," and you know I don't break promises."

"Yeah," I grin, sending her a wink," I have the scar on my toe to prove it, but you can beat me all you like if we make it through this. Now, all of you get in the boat and sail into the sunset while Jamie and I take this—" I grunt as I trade the oar for the heavy chest— "and head for the other side of the island. We'll make contact as soon as we can."

"We'll be on Pelegosto," Jack tells me, running a hand over my hair," the bayou half where the cannibals are too afraid to go." I nod, understanding who they would be staying with and that I would be safe there since Tia Dalma had a soft spot for me and my brother. I used to call her Auntie when I was little, Jack often leaving me with her when my nursemaid-turned-nanny was too sick to take care of me. She taught me how to summon things, gave me that gift in the first place, but I don't think either of us expected it to be so useful.

"See you there, Dad." James takes the chest from me and tucks it under one arm, taking my hand in his free one and beginning to sprint away into the thick jungle that took up a good portion of the island. It doesn't even seem like we get halfway through when James' foot gets caught on a tree root and we both crash to the ground, the chest landing a few feet away from us. I groan, rolling onto my side and staring up at the group of fish people surrounding us.

"I shall pry the chest from your cold, dead fingers," one states, holding his own head in his hand. My nose crinkles at the scent of decay and seaweed that accompanies him and his friends, bringing a hand up to cover my mouth and nose in an attempt to lessen the smell.

"How do you think you can manage that when you can't even keep your head on your shoulders," I snap, standing up and pushing loose strands of hair out of my face.

"Honey," James scolds nervously, chest back in his hands," don't argue with the crustacean." At this point, I'm angry enough to pick a fight with Jones himself, so it's probably a good thing that James tosses the chest at the men and then pulls me with him through the jungle, both of us sprinting until we get through it to another beach on the other side. "What do we do now?" I shrug, summoning us a raft so we could at least get away from the island.

"We can either go to Port Royal again or to Tia Dalma's hut." Tia's is closer and probably a little safer, but our house is in the other direction and so is His Shortness. "I want to go home, Jamie." He looks at me sadly as we begin to row, looking like he was trying to read me. "I want—I  _need_ —to face Beckett and show him that I'm not as weak as I used to be; he can't hurt me anymore."

"You're so brave, Kit." His voice is soft when he speaks, just like it was that day two and a half years ago when he comforted me after a flashback.

"Don't confuse my bravery with my stubbornness, trust me when I say they're two totally different things. Bravery would be killing Beckett and throwing him out his own window, but stubbornness is what's going to keep me from breaking down every time he's nearby. If there's anything I've learned from my family, it's that there's no better revenge than having a better life than your enemies."

We row for another five hours, passing the time with talking and small games until an EITC ship picks us up. The ship was a small one meant for transporting cargo and the Captain allowed us the use of his cabin since he couldn't have a young woman sharing a room with horny sailors—that's the modernized version of his words anyway.

—Terasa—

"What happened," Will asks as he finally comes to, squinting up at me and raising a hand to shade his face from the bright sunlight.

"A lot of dramatic stuff," I tell him, helping him to sit up in my bed," I'll tell you all about it when we're back on land that doesn't move." He nods, letting out a hiss when I prod at the back of his head, trying to make sure Jack hadn't broken the skin. "You'll have a good-sized goose egg on the back of your head, but you don't need stitches. Aside from the obvious headache, how do you feel?" He shrugs a little as I move to shutter the window, blocking out the light that would only make him feel worse.

"Dizzy and a bit sick at my stomach."

"Probably a concussion, but we can handle that." There's a huge splash outside followed by muffled cries from out on deck, and I'm left with a burning curiosity to see what just happened and an urge to dive under the bed in case we're about to be boarded.

"What was that?" I hold up a hand in a gesture for him to remain on the bed, inching the shutter back open and peering outside. I gasp when I find the  _Flying Dutchman_ , covered in disgusting slime and seaweed with bits of moldering wood falling off in places; it was as hideous as its crew and bigger than the  _Pearl_. "Terasa, what's out there?"

"Ursula's come to pay a visit." Will scrambles to his feet and joins me at the window, swallowing hard when he spots the ship. It's hard to miss, basically a monster all on its own even without the creepy as fuck crew that occupies it.

"Oi," we hear Jack call from outside," fish-face! Lose something, eh?" There's a series of thumps and then one final loud one before Jack starts up his taunting again.  _I'd bet my last penny that he just fell down a flight of steps_. "Come to negotiate, have you, you slimy git?" Will and I share a confused look before glancing at the door again, moving in unison as we crawl across the floor to peer out the crack between the door and wall. Jack was pacing around with his ever-present jar of dirt, holding it up like it was Simba. "Look what I got."

"Remind me to strangle him after he gets all of us killed."

" _I got a jar of dirt_ ," he sings happily as he continues pacing,"  _I got a jar of dirt and guess what's inside it!"_  I move to leave the cabin, but Will catches me around the waist, keeping me from revealing our hiding place even as I struggle to break free.

"Let me go, I'm gonna kill him myself!" There was more shouting outside and then the ship began to turn, the sudden lurch making Will and I fall sideways with twin groans of pain. I had just sat back up when a cannonball blasted through the back wall, Will yanking me back down as it sailed through the door of the cabin, nearly taking my head with it. "Thanks."

"What kind of man would I be if I couldn't save my fiancée's life from time to time," he returns with a breathless laugh. "Shall we join them outside in a fight to the death between an infamous Captain and our own crazy one?"

"We shall." Smiling despite the fact that we may well die in a short while, we stand and march out on deck hand-in-hand, ready to face the world. "In case we die just know that I love you more than I could have ever hoped to love a man." He pulls me against him with an arm around my waist, kissing me deeply as my arms wind around his neck; the kiss was long and passionate, sparking my lust as I pull him closer against me.

"Hey," Carl shouts from somewhere close by," you two think you can hold the tonsil hockey session until  _after_  we're somewhere a little safer?" Will is the one to break the kiss, smiling down at me. He'd opened his mouth to say something when Carl crashed into the both of us, forcing all of us to the deck as several cannonballs fly overhead. "They've got a fucking machine cannon!"

"And you've got body odor!" I shove him off me and sit up, nose scrunched up in disgust as I wave a hand in front of my face to cleanse the air. "Have you been rolling around in a pigsty or something?"

"You don't exactly smell like roses!" Scowling, I punch his arm and get back to my feet, pulling Will up after me and running with him up the stairs where Jack and the other people I've grown fond of have gathered.

"About time you joined us," Jack quips, steering us out of the  _Dutchman's_  range. "Finally decide to quit hiding out?" The look I send him isn't as threatening as it usually is and Jack shrugs it off with an easy smile. Nothing seemed to affect his good mood except Norrington, but he looked unusually serious right now as he focused on the open waters in front of us.

"They're giving up," Marty cries from above us, a cheer rising up among the crew. I stay quiet, tucked against Will's side as I keep an eye on the other ship. It looks to have stopped completely, the green canvases raising so that they wouldn't catch the wind.  _Something's up_. I turn my attention to Carl, noting the way he'd gone all tense and clutched at the railing hard enough to make his knuckles go white. If I was as close to him as his sister is, then I could read him entirely and know what he was thinking, but right now all I can pick up is that he knows something's wrong as well.

"My father's on that ship," Will states as he moves to stand next to Jack. They were by the other railing now, Jack observing the crew. "If we can outrun her, then we can take her and free my father." _He and I need to have a long talk later on about when it's appropriate to rescue parents we think are long dead._

"Why fight when you can negotiate," Jack returns," all one needs is the proper leverage and I happen to have that right here." He sets his jar on the railing, tapping his fingers on it with a smug look until a sudden lurch sends it falling to the deck and busting open in a shower of sand. I grab a rope to keep myself upright, heart beginning to pound and adrenaline spiking again.

"We must've hit a reef," one of the crew shouts up to us. Carl and I share a look before moving to look over the side of the ship, spotting water bubbling from under us. There's something down there and I doubt it's here for tea.

"We're not gonna like what comes out of there, are we," I ask in a low voice, gripping the sleeve of Carl's shirt.

"No," he confirms, shaking his head and making the beads clink against each other," we most certainly are not. Summon a weapon and make it a good one." He summoned a rifle as he spoke, handling it with a deadly precision that spoke of years of practice. I do the same, catching the pistol easily even as a sharp pain flared in my chest. Summoning wasn't an easy trick to master and it often left me feeling like I was suffering through a bad case of the flu, but it was handy in times like this.

"It's not a reef," Will calls out in warning," get away from the rail." He pulls me backwards by the fabric of my tank top, keeping his eyes on the right side of the ship. Carl takes a few healthy steps back as well, biting his lip and resting the butt of his rifle securely against his shoulder.

"It's the Kraken, isn't it?" The look Will sends Carl is an honest one, filled with dread and grim resolve as he nodded once. "Kit's going to be mad when she finds out she missed a showdown with Nessie. Everybody get a weapon! Find something that really packs a punch and try to stay on your feet!" Everyone swarmed around the ship, whispers breaking out that were drowned out by orders yelled from Gibbs and Will.

"Rasa,” Will murmurs,” stay safe."

"You, too," I say with a peck on his cheek," I plan on marrying you one of these days."

"I look forward to it." With another chaste kiss, Will was running down the stairs and shouting out more orders, Carl sticking close to me like he had when we were boarded by Barbossa's crew.

"In case we die, I want you to know that I don't hate you." Carl looks down at me without his usual arrogance, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"Save the touchy-feely stuff for later, Rasa. You can announce your undying love for me over a glass of water." Despite the situation, I can't help a pitiful laugh at the fact that he can still make jokes. His smile tightens and there's a moment of tense silence as tentacles begin to climb the side of the ship, raising slowly in the air to tower high above our heads. They looked to be at least three cannons wide and fifteen stories high, continuing to rise until they were straight as a pin. "Hands steady, Sterling." The command and hard tone had me complying without even thinking about it, the pistol no longer shaking in my hands and my back straighter.

"Release your breath after you squeeze the trigger." It was something my uncle in the other dimension would tell me when we went out shooting. "Keep one eye open, only fire when it's in your sights, and think happy thoughts."

"Faith and trust." I slow my breathing, my senses seeming to go into hyper drive as I keep the pistol raised, left eye squeezed shut and right one staring down the barrel at the beast.  _Pretend it's just a deer that Uncle Tom will make into jerky_.  _Make them proud of you; you can do this, Rasa_.

"Fire!" At Will's command, I release round after round into the beast, cannon fire echoing with the high  _pop_  of my pistol, and the tentacles shrink away from the sudden pain, curling up back under the water. I summon another magazine, replacing the one I'd just emptied and stuffing another in the pocket of my jeans while Carl did much the same. "It's not over yet." Will joined Carl and I back upstairs, a slight tremor in his hands as he grasped my arms. "We have to abandon ship."

"That's gonna be hard considering my fucking father is sailing away in our only boat." And I hate to say that Carl's not lying, Jack was rowing as quickly as he can and our other boats were smashed to pieces from the lone tentacle that had hit the deck before sliding overboard.

"Then we'll just have to improvise, won't we?" Carl followed Will's gaze, green eyes lighting up with excitement just as they did when he came up with the plan to get us to Tortuga almost a month ago. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Scrappy trap." Carl was sporting a full grin now as Will charged down the steps and shouted out orders to pile all the gunpowder barrels onto the net in the hold.

"What's going on," I ask, confused as I watch the crew scurry to do Will's bidding.

"We're gonna make our own little bomb for the Kraken." I pause at that, head tilted slightly to the side as a smile starts curving my lips up.

"Blow it up? Boom?"

"Boom!"

"Then let's make McGonnagal proud and blow this thing to Kingdom Come." An idea hits me suddenly, one of those scenes from a movie that Carl had tons of useless trivia for; he and Kit made me watch the series a thousand times and now it was finally coming in handy. I slap Carl's arm repeatedly, practically jumping up and down with my eyes wide. "Tremors! We can do the Tremors thing!"

"Tremors?" It's his turn to widen his eyes and do a little stomp, laughing loudly as it hits him, too. "Tremors, of course! We gotta pull a Burt if we're gonna make it out of this alive. God, I'd kiss you if I wouldn't feel disgusted afterwards!"

"I know, I have that same feeling!" Giggling, we summon familiar, homemade sticks of dynamite that fit easily in our hands. "This is going to be so cool." The Kraken hits the ship hard, barley giving us time to stand back up when its tentacles cut through the wood like it was cake, dragging people out or just knocking them off the deck. I move as far from the tentacles as possible, summoning a Zippo lighter and holding the flame against the fuse until it started to let out sparks.

"It's now or never, Rasa!" Relying on my years of softball practices, I throw the stick as hard as I can, letting out a sigh of relief when it hits one of the pods and sticks to it, blowing up a moment later and taking a huge chunk of flesh with it. "That's right, you son of a bitch!" We ready another two sticks and throw them at the Kraken, the  _boom_  that followed enough to set my ears ringing. Things were going our way until something pulled Carl to the deck, making him let out a choked cry.

"Carl!" I grab onto his arms, digging the heels of my boots against the wood and trying my hardest to keep him on the deck, but the Kraken is stronger and I find myself being pulled along with him. "Kick it, make it let you go! Just kick the damn thing!"

"I'm tryin', I'm tryin'!" And he was, kicking desperately at the tentacle wrapped round his ankle and growing more panicked the closer we come to the edge of the ship. Just when I thought we'd all be pulled into the water, a sharp axe cuts through the muscle, releasing Carl's ankle and sending both of us backwards from the sudden release.

"Miss me," Jack asks without his usual smile, grabbing one of the sticks of dynamite that had fallen to the ground. "Mind if I use one of these? Your boyfriend's in trouble." I just stare up at him dumbly as he holds the fuse against the naked flame of a lantern, waiting for the spark to catch before turning and hurling it at the net of gunpowder, the explosion that follows making me cover my face on instinct.

"Are you okay?" Carl helped me to sit up, pushing a large piece of barrel off me and looking me over from head to toe. "No broken bones?"

"I think I'm good," I breathe, leftover fear still making me shake hard as he wraps me up in a hug. Small fires were burning all around us, the deck cluttered with broken pieces of wood and dead bodies, and the survivors staring around in the same daze as me. "We're still alive?" I can feel Carl shaking as he tightens his hold on me, resting his cheek against the top of my head.

"We've made it so far." A hand comes down in front of my face, the palm stained with what looks like gray ink, the wrist wrapped with a cloth. I follow it up to the face of Jack, never so happy to see him before.

"Come on, love," he coaxes, wigging his fingers," let's get out of here while we still have a chance."  _Chance, we need a real one and that Kraken is after one person_. I take his hand and allow him to pull me up, watching as he does the same with Carl before leading the way downstairs. "Abandon ship, everyone into the longboat."

"But, Jack," Gibbs pleads," the  _Pearl_."

"She's just a ship, mate." I frown over at him, brows furrowed as he just stares down at his boots with a deep sadness hunching his shoulders. He loves this ship, he sold his damn soul for this ship, and he's just going to give up on it? That doesn't sound at all like him. "We need to make it as far as we can before the Kraken knows we're not on the ship, so let's get moving."

"Abandon ship." Gibbs nods grimly, going along with what he was told. "Abandon ship or abandon hope." As everyone around me begins to gather some supplies for the voyage to Pelegosto, I hang back and face Jack again. He had his hand resting against a piece of the ship, looking around him in longing. Using his distraction, I summon a pair of manacles, locking one around his wrist and the other end to the ship.

“Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" He didn't look angry or surprised, he actually seemed to have expected the move.

"You abandoned us," I state sadly," you left your son to die and you let your daughter run off with a whole herd of monsters chasing after her."

"My kids are survivors, they're just like their father."

"They're not," I hiss, clenching my jaw to keep from shouting and drawing attention to us. "Can't you see that? They're just good at pretending to be alright, but Carl's struggling with his alcoholism so he can be a good father, Kit's trying not to break down after what Beckett did to her, and both of them are trying to make you proud even if they don't realize it. You're the only person in this entire world that they want to please the most, they would do anything for your approval even if it means endangering themselves! I won't lose my friends because of some absentee father that doesn't even know how to protect them."

"I've done my best."

"That wasn't enough." I was breathing hard as I stared him down, hands clenched into fists to keep them from shaking. I wasn't happy about this choice, but it's the only one that makes sense. "If you really love your kids, then just give them a chance to actually live without you around to screw them up further. Give  _all_  of us a chance to escape  _your_  fate with the Kraken." He gives me a little smile, dark eyes gleaming as he leans back against the mast.

"Pirate."

"And who made me that, Jack?"

"Keep them safe for me, Terasa."


	16. Blank Edges Filled In

—Katherine—

It seemed like James and I were barely on the dock for five seconds before a couple of soldiers swept us up in a flurry of handcuffs and red coats. The coach we’re forced into is Beckett’s, whisking us off to Fort Charles where Mercer was waiting for us just outside Beckett’s office. The clerk makes is stay in the outer room while he makes his report, leaving a soldier to make sure we didn’t run off in his absence.

"I've got you, Kit," James promises solemnly.

"I know," I say, nodding a little. Unlike James, my hands weren’t bound and I was able to loop my arm through his, resting my head against his shoulder. He was always so warm and still smelled like the sea, like home. James meant safety with only occasional leaps into adventure, he protects me to the best of his ability, and I don't think I've ever loved someone like I do him. He's just...  _Safe_.

A soldier nudges us, forcing us into the office as Beckett reaches out to unfold the leather packet. "I took the liberty of filling in our names." Gone was the gentle tone he'd used with me, the soldier coming to the surface and his face hardening as he meets Beckett's gaze. Beckett nods at the cuffs, the soldier quickly undoing them and walking out of the office, shutting the door behind him. I lift my chin when Beckett's gaze flicks between James and me, not letting him get the satisfaction of seeing how scared I really am.

"If you intend to claim these, then I assume you have something to trade," Beckett drawls, arching a brow and dropping the packet on his desk. "Do you have the compass?" James and I step up to the desk, my husband digging around in his torn coat until he finds what he's looking for, dropping a small bag on the desk. 

"Better." _But if it's not the compass, then what's in there?_ Almost at the same time, Beckett and I lean forward to look at the sack, the bottom of it saturated with some kind of liquid and...  _Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump_. With narrowed eyes, I straighten up and glare at my husband.

"The heart of Davy Jones," I state, itching to slap the back of his head. "The same heart that—"  _The very same heart that Will needs in order to save his father and Jack needs to call off the terrible beastie_. And James had just stolen all that away from them without even thinking to mention it. He's never been a backstabber before, so why the hell did he think to start now?

To confirm James wasn't lying, Beckett stands and opens the pouch, staring inside at the organ in disbelief. Angry, I move to stand at the balcony doors, hugging myself as I stared out at the calm waters.

"It's remarkable," he murmurs.

"I take it I've won commission as a privateer," James inquires in that same hard tone," and that my wife need not worry about untoward advances?"

"Think higher, better." I look over my shoulder as Beckett rounds the desk, opening a familiar box. Inside it and cushioned by black velvet is the sword James had received when he became a Commodore, the sword that had been left in his study during our hasty run from Port Royal.  _He's been in our home_. "Reinstatement to your former rank and status, all rights and privileges attendant." I look back out the window, glaring at the glass like it was personally responsible for Beckett moving to stand beside me. "You look beautiful in that color," he whispers, James unaware of what was happening as he runs his fingers across the hilt of his sword.

"Fuck off," I hiss, turning my glare on him. The dress I wore was short due to the heat, a pale blue with a gray bow tied around the middle; it offered no view of my cleavage and stopped a few inches above my knees, and Beckett was taking full advantage of that fact. He raises a hand and twirls a strand of my hair around a finger, smiling even as I slap his hand away from me.

"I think a promotion is in order as well." James pulls the sword free of its sheath, the blade gleaming in the sunlight, beautifully crafted steal that was perfect for James to hold. "Don't you agree, Admiral Norrington?" Both of us were facing James again, watching as his cold façade melts into awe as he handles the sword. That was the key to his old life, the one he's always wanted to have. He deserves it after all he's been through and I won't let anyone take it from him again. James adjusts his grip and the rests the blade on his left arm, the point aimed at the heart.

"Shall I take care of this problem," he asks, zeroed in on the pouch as it moves in rhythm with the organ inside.

"Oh, no, no, no. That would be terribly imprudent, don't you think? Where's the profit in killing Jones when he could be added to your fleet?" He pushes the French doors open and steps outside onto the balcony, the rest of us following him slowly. Jamie keeps a hand on the small of my back with the other gasping his sheathed sword tightly, like he was trying to reassure himself that he wasn't dreaming all of this. "The  _Flying Dutchman_." A gasp escapes when I see the monstrosity sailing closer to the docks, but dropping anchor before it reached them, a large man at the helm with a beard made of Octopus tentacles.

"Jack was right," I mumble, resting my hands on the wooden bannister as I continue staring. I could see the crew moving around the ship, hear people below letting out shouts of fear, but my focus remained on Jones as he inclines his head to Beckett. "Whoever has the heart really can bend Jones to their will."

"More than that, Katherine, they control the sea." Behind us, the old painter was walking our way, the heels of his shoes sounding loud in the blooming silence, floorboards groaning after years of humidity made them warp.

"The map is finished, sir." I look at it over my shoulder, staring at all of the places the East India Trading Company has control of, the once free ports that would now have a strict tax; no more places for the poor sailors to find relaxation, no more pirate ports apart from Tortuga.

The blank edges of the map filled in.

—Terasa—

Tia Dalma's hut was cluttered with all sorts of strange things, baskets hanging from the ceiling—both empty and filled—small pieces of bones spread out across a table, and even more junk shoved into a room on my right; somewhere above us, a monkey was screeching and someone was pacing back and forth, their heavy tread knocking dirt loose. All I want to do is sleep for a few hours, but every time I close my eyes I see the  _Pearl_  being crushed, it's Captain going down with it.

Tia Dalma steps in front of me, a tray of mugs in her hands and her large eyes focused on me. "For your sorrow," she says, Jamaican accent thick," and for sleep." I take a mug, sniffing it suspiciously and letting out a noise of relief when I find that it's just brandy. She moves to Carl next, sitting next to me and staring down at the floor as he's done since we got here ten minutes ago. "Blackberry juice for you, just as you drank when you were only a child." He takes the proffered mug and leans into her touch when she cups his face with her free hand. "Listen to your Auntie, your grief will pass."

He doesn't say anything, just taking a small sip and trying not to break down as Tia moves on to Will. He was seated across the room at the bar, as far from me as he could get without making it obvious. I've already told him about why I sacrificed Jack, but he was still torn up over the fact that we'd lost the  _Pearl_  and the heart.  _He'll never get his father back now and it's all Squishy's fault_.

I take a long drink from my mug, relishing the burn that chased the booze down my throat and the heat that spread through my body.

"Already the world seems a bit less bright without Jack in it," Gibbs says as he comes back in the hut, taking a mug from Tia," managed to fool us right to the end. To Jack Sparrow." I raise my mug in the toast, watching everyone else do the same before taking another drink.

"Never another like Captain Jack," Ragetti starts.

"He was a gentleman of fortune, he was," Pintel adds.

"He was as good a father as he could be," Carl finishes, though he doesn't take a drink. He just stares down into the dark liquid, small rings traveling from the center to the edges as his hands shake in his effort not to cry. He was trying hard to keep himself together, the tic in his jaw catching my eye for a while until I realize I'm staring at him. I can feel another tear make its way down my face, leaving a track in the grime that sweat, ash, and blood had made.  _I've made such an awful mistake in all of this_.

"If there was something that could be done," Will starts, turning on his stool to face Carl and I," if we could bring him back somehow..."

"Would you do it," Tia interrupts as Will comes to sit next to me. “Would any of you be willing to sail past the ends of the Earth to fetch our witty Jack and him precious  _Pearl_?" There was a chorus of ayes, one after the other speaking up until it was just me that had remained quiet. When I glance up from my shoes I find the remainder of our crew looking towards me, Will sitting next to me and pulling me against his chest in a comforting hug.

"I suppose," I murmur finally with a sniffle. “Someone's gotta take care of that dumbass and it might as well be us."

"That's all well and good, but you'll need a Captain who knows the weird and haunted shores like no other." The heavy footsteps start up again above us, slowly making their way closer and closer until I could hear them on the stairs, standing up so I can see who Tia Dalma had picked.

"You're kidding me, right? I mean, this is some sort of sick joke?" The man standing in front of me was one of the last people I ever wanted to see and he stunk like roadkill. With his mangled clothes and ridiculous hat, it was a miracle he wasn't mistaken for a parade float.

"Nice to see you again, too," Barbossa says with a smug grin, taking a huge bite out of the Granny Smith apple in his hand. The monkey on his shoulder lets out another shriek, shrill and annoying like its master and I find myself wondering how I would make it through this adventure without one of us murdering the other. And then it hit me, the fact that I would have to spend who knows how long with this guy.

Oh,  _hell_  no.


	17. AWE: Suspended Rights

—Katherine—

Groups of people are brought up to the gallows this dismal morning, the sky overcast and clouds hovering, the color of lead. It's as if even God feels the deep sorrow along with most everyone in Port Royal. If not for the protection of Beckett, I could be down in that line, shackled and waiting for my turn to swing. That would be too easy, though, Beckett had it in mind to use me as leverage against my brother and James as leverage against me.

"In order to affect a timely halt to deteriorating conditions and to ensure the common good, a state of emergency is declared for these territories." The voice of Lieutenant Hildreth rings out loud and clear in the quiet courtyard. "By decree of Lord Cutler Beckett, duly appointed representative of his majesty the King. By decree, according to marshal law, the following statutes are temporarily amended: Right to assembly, suspended."

The prisoners are hanged and promptly dragged away to a wagon afterwards to be burned or buried in a mass grave later on.

"Right to habeas corpus, suspended; right to legal counsel, suspended; right to verdict by a jury of peers, suspended. By decree, all persons found guilty of piracy, or associating with a person convicted of piracy shall be sentenced to hang by the neck until dead."

Death taints the air, no one daring to cry out for justice for fear they'll be charged with treason and drug up to the noose. The newest group is led up to the gallows, one of them a small boy that’s not even tall enough for the rope to wrap around his tiny throat. I have to swallow back bile at the thought of such a small kid being killed because of something a family member had done.

"Lord Beckett," I beg, clutching at the bastard's arm," please, not the child. H-he's only a boy. I’ll take him—"

"Enough begging, Katherine," Beckett interrupts coldly. "He's a pirate and if you can't control yourself, then you can go wait in the coach." I was going to do just that when I heard the boy's faint voice.

" _The King and his men stole the Queen from her bed_ ," he sings quietly, looking at something in his hands as the hangman lifts him to stand on a barrel and settles the noose around his throat. " _And bound her in her bones_." I know this song, familiar of it since birth. " _The seas be ours and by the powers, where we will we'll roam_."

 “ _Yo ho_ ,” the others on either side of him pick up the song,” _all hands, hoist the colors high_.” Soon all of the prisoners are singing it; stomping their feet and rattling their chains in rhythm. The Marines guarding them look uneasy, but do not fire as Theodore begins to run across the courtyard. “ _Heave ho, thieves and beggars, never shall we die_.”

"They've started to sing, sir," the Lieutenant informs us, stopping at the edge of our balcony. He was breathless and his nose was red from the cold, droplets of water clinging to his dark lashes. Theodore looked sick to his stomach, not liking the proceedings any more than James or me.

"Finally," Beckett says, looking every inch the big bad wolf. I shake my head a little, shrugging of the warm arm James had around my waist.

“How long do you think cruelty will keep the citizens in line,” I demand, glaring at the taller man when he finally tears his gaze off the courtyard. “How long before the pirates these people supposedly know decide to come in and slit your throat while you sleep because you killed their families?”

"That's quite enough out of you." The warning was clear in his tone and James took a step forward, but I hold up a hand to stop him. I can handle this, I was learning my boundaries, and seeing Beckett this worked up was the best thing to happen in the last year. “Remember your place here and how precarious it can be.” He shoots James a pointed look before meeting my gaze again.

“One of these days you won’t have Mercer around to protect you and that’ll be the day that I kill you slow.” I turn on my heel, wincing when I hear the trapdoors banging open and fiver ropes being pulled taunt. " _Now some men have died and some are alive_ ,” I sing, just loud enough for Beckett to hear me as I leave the viewing platform,” _and others sail on the sea_.  _With the keys to the cage and the Devil to pay, we lay to Fiddler's Green._ ”

"You seem pleased with yourself," James remarks, watching the people surrounding us as we move towards the coach.

"I'm very pleased with myself, Jamie." He helps me inside, sitting across from me as I lean my head back and take deep, steadying breaths. That little boy is dead because of something his parents did and it's so far from being alright. I cover my mouth with a hand, blinking the tears back as the coach begins to move, taking me back to my home. "I don't feel so hot."

"I imagine these executions are to blame." I can hear the shuffle of clothing and then he's next to me, grasping my chin gently to make me look at him. James has gorgeous green eyes, I could look into those eyes for the rest of my life and be happy, drowning in the love and happiness they project to the world; they're as beautiful as the rest of him. "We won't have to live with Beckett's control forever, Kit."

"I know, one day he'll die and we'll all be free to sing and dance in the streets."

"That's one way of looking at it, sure." I smile up at him, leaning in to place a lingering kiss against his lips. "Have you heard from the others?" Nodding, I close my eyes again and lean against him, glad for his warmth.

"They're in Singapore last I heard, something about stealing maps from one of the Pirate Lords. I'm sure it'll go smoothly."

—Terasa—

“ _The bell has been raised from its watery grave_ ," I sing softly as I row past shops and under the bridges of Singapore, constantly looking around me for a threat. EITC soldiers have tried to take over the place, managing with the legit businesses, but unable to claim the underground where pirates did their exchanges. " _Can you hear it sepulchral tone? A call to all, pay head the squall and turn your sails towards home_." I tie the boat off and climb onto the low docks once I reach the place I'm supposed to wait at for Barbie and Carl. It's full of shadows, the perfect place for soldiers or someone worse to hang out in wait for easy prey. " _Yo ho, haul together, hoist the colors high. Heave ho_ —"

" _Thieves and beggars_ ," interrupts an angry-looking Asian man,” _never shall we die_.” He was absolutely filthy, his face covered in grime and the thin strands of his mustache tangled even as they framed his mouth in a braid; his clothes were made of dark colors and basically rags apart from the places where he stored his weapons, and he wore one of those strange hats on his head that looked like a triangle. "Dangerous words to be singing, especially for a woman with no one to protect her."

"Oh sweetie, I've fought undead pirates and the crew of Davy Jones." I move closer to him, the blunt heels of my boots making the damp wood creak. "No offense, but you don't look half as dangerous as those guys." I play with the collar of his tunic, griping the dark blue material in my fingers gently to make sure he wasn't tense around me before tightening my hold to keep him in place and pressing the tip of a knife against his abdomen.

"Easy, Calamity Jane," Carl snaps as he joins us," don't kill our guide before he takes us to the head honcho." Barbie followed him into the faint light provided by lanterns and moonlight, yellowed eyes taking in the scene with what might have been pride if I didn't know any better.  _How come Kit got the cool pirate dad and mine is more the type that would pick me up at school with Miley Cyrus blaring over the speakers?_  With a frown, I shove the pirate away as two more step forward with their hands on the hilts of their swords. "Take us to your leader."

"Dear Christ."

"I've always wanted to say that," Carl whispers, leaning down just enough to let me hear him and no one else. Shouts sound above us, Carl pulling me with him into the shadows and pressing me against a wall as the others do the same, the sound of marching soldiers passing us overhead. He keeps a hand pressed over my mouth, looking over his shoulder as the soldiers march down a set of stairs and continue on. I wait until they pass before slapping at his arm, pushing him away so that I can breathe without smelling him.

"Follow the leader?" Carl nods, following behind me as the pirates ahead of us pass through a circular grate set into the wall, leading us down a tunnel that was slick with moss and dead things. The tunnel leads to open streets far below the level the soldiers occupy, small shops and stalls set up beside the docks. "Have we heard anything from my fiancé," I ask Barbossa as we walk, keeping my eyes trained ahead of me instead of at my old, and I do mean  _old_ , father.

"Not as yet," he replies," but I'm sure we'd know if he was in trouble."

"It's Will, he's the king of trouble. The man could find trouble just going to buy groceries."  _He found trouble on our wedding day just getting dressed, so I hope he isn't too deep in it right now_. "What do we know about this guy we're meeting?"

"Captain Sao Feng's a bit like myself, but absent my merciful nature and sense of fair play." I raise my brows at that last bit, sending him a look that makes him grin slightly.

"Merciful my ass, you left me to die and I'm your _kid_."

"Exactly." We fall silent as we stop in front of a pair of shabby wooden doors, the pirate from earlier knocking on it once and saying something in another language when a hatch opens at eye level. There's a moment after the hatch shuts that I begin to wonder whether we've just been screwed over sideways, but then the door swings open and we're allowed inside, Carl leering at a pair of prostitutes as we pass.

"Down, boy." The doors are shut behind us by two buff guys with swords, closing us in a room walled off from others by bamboo dividers, occupied only by a simple table on my left and the two guards.

"Relieve yourselves of your weapons," the skinny pirate commands, facing us and narrowing his eyes in my direction.  _You threaten a guy one time and suddenly you're on his shit list_. I pull out my dagger, passing it and Barbie's weapons down the line and letting one of the guards set them on the table. "Do you think we wouldn't suspect someone of treachery just because they're a woman?"

Pride still fully intact and shyness nowhere to be seen, I unzip my jacket and raise up my shirt, turning in a slow circle to show that I have no other weapons on my person. Of course, who needs to carry weapons when you can summon them with a thought? We also have a group below us, following beneath the floorboards with swords in case things go pear-shaped.

"Satisfied," Carl asks, hands shoved into the pockets of his own jacket. His hair's longer now, the dark red highlights beginning to show after hours beneath the sun, and he was able to actually pull it back in a short ponytail. He's angry, a tic going in his strong jaw and his accent more pronounced. "She's got nothin' on her and those jeans are too tight to hold weapons." With a suspicious gleam in his eyes, the guy leads us between the dividers and past a bunch of men in crude hot tubs, fungi growing off of the men who have spent too long in the steam that drifts up through the floor. 

 _Davy could recruit these guys and not even have to wait for them to look like part of his ship_.

We stop a few feet from a guy standing in the very back of the room, his arms outstretched as two pretty young women help put a silken robe on him. With the steam surrounding us and the horrible lighting, he certainly had drama on his side for this introduction, turning slowly to face us. Four scars marred the left side of his head, two moving from his ear to his scalp and the other two starting an inch from his mouth and bisecting the others; he had no hair apart from a well-maintained goatee and eyebrows.

With some reluctance, I bow at the waist with the others in my group, staring up at him defiantly all the same. He's not the scariest man I've faced, not by far, so I won't let him intimidate me until he turns into a skeleton or moans about brains.

"Captain Barbossa," Sao greets, slowly lowering his hands to his sides," welcome to Singapore."  _Let's see Jack say I haven't been here now_. We straighten back up, Barbie and Carl tenser than normal. Sao turns to the woman slightly behind him on his right, raising a bright red, silk scarf up to his nose, no doubt using its fresh scent to block out the overwhelming smell of sweat. "More steam." He continues as the woman pulls on a rock hanging from a string, Sao stepping down so that he's more on our level. "I've heard you have a request to ask of me."

"More like a proposal," Barbossa corrects with a forced smile. "I need to borrow a ship and a crew for a venture of mine."

"That's an odd coincidence."

"'Cause you can get us one," I ask hopefully, struggling not to take a step forward in case they would deem it as threatening.

"No, because this morning a thief broke into my Uncle's temple and tried to steal the navigational charts." He takes the charts from an old man that I assume to be his uncle, holding them up for us to see. It's hard to keep a neutral expression as worry starts eating away at me. If the thief got caught, then that means that I was right about Will finding trouble again. One of these days he's gonna learn a little thing called stealth. "Wouldn't it be funny if your voyage took you to the next world?"

"Would it make it hard for us to get a ship and crew?"

"You would not get anything."

"Not even a longboat?"

"Nothing." I sigh and roll my eyes.  _I hope Barbie can come up with a lie on the spot because I got nothing_. Carl, always a quick thinker in tight situations, gives a casual shrug, and takes half a step forward, eyeing the charts with interest before meeting Sao's gaze.

"What's with the lack of trust," he inquires, leaning in close. "Not all pirates plot out things like this in detail, in fact, most of us don't have the time. Take us as an example—“ he gestures between us and himself with an easy smile “—we've been busy just trying to get in contact with ya, so when would we have time to sneak into your uncle's..."

"Temple."

"Whatever it is." He waves it off easily, moving behind Sao and taking a brief glance into a tub of water before making his way back over to us with his arms outstretched. "We don't got the time or the manpower. If we did, then would we need your crew?" He makes a face, shrugging again as his hands returned to his pockets. "Don't seem like it, does it, Cap'n?" I look up at Carl, noting the way he passed a discreet nod towards the tub. It's not until Sao gives his men a curt nod and Will is raised out of the tub of water that I understand what Carl was talking about, forcing myself not to react when I spot his wrists bound to a thick piece of wood. Why can't he get through one mission without getting caught? I mean, what the hell is so hard about that?

"Does he seem familiar to you?" Our trio shakes our heads, watching in muted horror as Sao pulls out a sharped spike and holds it under Will's chin. "Then I suppose I have no further need of him." I leap forward when he prepares to ram the spike into Will's throat, Carl grabbing onto me and holding me back with a curse in Gaelic.

"Easy, Rasa, we'll get him out." Sao's expression darkens as he focuses back on us, dark eyes bright with his obvious rage.  _Did he really not expect us to betray him somehow? I mean, we're fucking pirates for crying out loud_.

"You come into my city and betray my hospitality—"

"Sao Feng," Barbie interrupts, "I assure you I had no idea—"

"That he would get caught!" The pirates soaking in the tubs and hanging out in the darkened corners converge around us, blocking off the only way out with their sheer mass and numbers. "You intend to go on a voyage to Davy Jones' Locker and I want to know why." In one smooth motion, Barbie draws a small coin of dented silver out of his coat pocket and sends it flying through the air into Sao's outstretched hand, the Chinese pirate blowing on it and holding it close to his ear.

_Is this guy dumb or is that coin actually telling him something?_

"The song has been sung," Barbossa states in a grave tone as he takes a step forward, leaving Carl to keep me in place. "The time is upon us and it is our duty to gather the Brethren Court. As a Lord, you have to honor the code." Sao lowers the coin from his ear, dirty fingers closed over it like it was a lifeline keeping him firmly on the ground.

"There is a price on all of our heads, that's true enough, but another truth is that pirates turning on pirates is the only way for us to make a profit anymore." I move to stand next to Barbossa with Carl following beside me, keeping a hand on my arm in case I try to swing.

"Lord Cutler Beckett is taking away our rule of the seas," I challenge, keeping my head up in a show of boldness," and he'll squish all of you like bugs under the heel of his boot if we don't stand up to him. If my best friend can stand to be near him to get us information, then I'm sure it won't hurt you to do a little work as well."

"With the East India Trading Company against us, what can we hope to do?"

"You can get off your ass and fight, that's what you can do!" I take a deep breath, steadying my fraying nerves as I meet his stare. "I grew up on stories of how fearsome you are, heard all about your battles with the navy and other pirates, and I thought you were supposed to be ruthless yet here you are, a craven that's not even willing to stand up for himself. Are you even a man or was that exaggerated as well?" Yeah, low blow, but he'll survive.

"What she said," Carl agrees, letting me go and standing half in front of me to draw Sao's attention. "I'll have Beckett's head in a jar for what he did to my sister, make no mistake of that, but it'll happen much quicker with some of your help. Would you stand by as an innocent girl is raped by a man that should know better?" The only sign that Sao was bothered by that was an involuntary little flinch and the twitch of his fingers. "She was barely sixteen and he used her, but she's getting us our information; she's ignoring all her instincts that scream at her to run away. The least you could do is give us a ship and crew and the use of those charts."

"If she's as strong as you say, then why hasn't she killed him yet," Sao asks, taking a step closer to Carl until there was less than a foot between them. "Hm? Why hasn't she gutted him and joined with your merry band?"

"Cut down Beckett and another man just like him will step in. He's a plague and he'll keep hitting us with everything he has until there are no pirates left. Let's kill him in such a spectacular why that ol' Georgie will never try and hunt us down again." Sao raises a hand to scratch at his head, broken fingernails yellow and showing signs of moss.

"Tell me something first, why do you want to go to Davy Jones' Locker?"

"We need to retrieve another Pirate Lord that doesn't have the good sense God gave a lobster. He's trapped there and we got someone with enough mojo to help us find him, so all we need is to bring him back to the world of the living in order for the Court to be made complete since he didn't pass on his title before he died. He's dumb like that, you know."

"You speak of Jack Sparrow, yes? I'd heard a rumor that he was dragged to the depths by the Kraken, but hadn't put any faith in them until I saw you. You’re the mirror image of Jack before he was saddled with children. There is only one reason I would want Jack Sparrow back from the dead." He walks a few paces away from us, kicking out at an unsteady table and sending it toppling to the ground. "And that's to send him back myself!"

"And you can do just that," Barbossa ensures him," but we have to get him back first. We need his piece of eight."

"So, you admit you've deceived me?" I go tense at his sudden calmness, trusting it about as much as I'd trust Moriarty fixing my boiler. "Weapons!" Weapons seem to appear out of thin air, all of his men holding at least one sword as they snarled and closed in on us.

"Sao Feng," Barbie smiles, rejoining Carl and I," I assure you our intentions are strictly honorable." Right on cue, swords shoot up through the slots between floorboards, Barbossa catching them without a hitch as Carl and I summon our own weapons.  _At least these guys won't get back up after a headshot_ , I think with relief as a pistol lands in my hand. Looking like he had the winning card up his sleeve, Sao grabs a random man out of the crowd and holds the edge of a sword under his chin.

"Drop your weapons or I kill the man." Our trio share confused looks, not seeing what a random guy had to do with us.

"Kill him, he's not our man."

"If he's not with you and he's not with us," Will questions," who's he with?" There was a second of tense silence before a battle cry was heard, EITC soldiers knocking down the dividers and charging inside with guns blazing, even more of them coming in through side doors that I never noticed until they were opened. The battle wasn't one I was prepared for, but I did my best as I began to fire shots of my own, slowly making my way towards Will. Carl covers for me as I grab a dagger and cut through the ropes around my fiancé's wrists, handing him a sword before rejoining the fray.

"Do you think we'll get out of this," I ask breathlessly, pushing down on the small lever to release the magazine before summoning another and sliding it in place.

"I don't know," Carl answers," but at least we’ll go down fightin’!" Will grabs me as soldiers begin to form a line, trapping us between them and other pirates as they readied to fire. Just as their fingers rested on the trigger there was a loud explosion and the floor jolted beneath us, giving out and causing the soldiers to topple into the room below.

"Get her out," Barbossa yells over the noise of fighting, shoving me over to Carl and kicking at us before running a soldier through. I don't hesitate to follow orders, Carl and I taking out men as we headed towards the door, only stopping long enough to reload before stumbling out onto the docks.

Outside, the streets are crawling with soldiers, the fight pouring out of the sauna and inspiring others to join in. It made escape even harder than before, but at least there was more room to move and a few high places for Carl to perch on and take out soldiers. I grab Carl's arm and yank him to the side into a darkened hole in the wall seconds before the structure holding fireworks explodes in a shower of sparks.

"Thanks," he breathes, resting his head back against the bricks as we took a moment to catch our breaths.

"Don't mention it," I reply. With adrenaline running rampant inside of me, it took all I had not to blow Will's head off when I feel him latch onto my arm and pull me against him in a hug. "Oh God, don't sneak up on me when we're fighting for our lives!"

"Sorry," he laughs, kissing me despite how filthy I am. "Have I told you that you're beautiful today?

"Christ," Carl snaps, joining us out in the open," could you two save you sappy moment for when we're safely out of this mess? I swear, we're living in a romantic comedy or something." Will laughs again and gestures for us to follow him, leading the way across a bridge and meeting Barbossa at a halfway point, the charts in hand. "You get what we came for, Will?"

"And more." He nods towards the Chinese guard that led us to Sao Feng and a dozen other men behind him. "I got us a ship and a crew thrown in the bargain; you have to know how to talk to a man. Sao Feng is going to meet us at Shipwreck Cove, but we need to leave quickly."

Once we were safely on the borrowed ship and sailing away from Singapore, Carl turns to face Will and I. "Alright, exchange your nightly vows of undying love and give Rasa her Buttercup moment." He turns away with a sound of disgust when Will passes the charts to him and presses his lips against mine, holding me tightly in the same way Sao held the coin. "I need to find myself a girlfriend or somethin'."

"I love you, Terasa Sterling." I look up at Will, relishing in the way his smooth voice washed over me and sent shivers racing down my spine. He was so perfect, so wonderfully amazing that it shocked me every time he told me those words. What have I ever done to deserve them, to deserve the purity in his soul all directed my way?

"I love you more, William Turner," I mumble against his lips. I kiss him again and again, light and chaste kisses meant for teasing as I feel his hands tighten on my hips before one leaves to travel up my back and tangle in my dark hair. "I'll love you even after the sun as dimmed to nothing but a spark and the moon has disappeared."


	18. Unlucky Socks

—Katherine—

I sit in the parlor by myself, playing the piano softly for something to do before it's time to say goodbye to Jamie. Apparently Beckett was going after the  _Flying Dutchman_ and he wanted my husband to lead his fleet. Outside, the sky is a dark gray, the clouds heavy with rain and looking ready to burst apart at any second. The damp air was making my arm hurt, the healed bone always aching when the weather was bound to get bad. Granted, playing the piano didn't make it feel any better, it actually made it hurt worse, but I needed to do something or I'd be driven mad.

“ _Farewell and adieu to you Spanish ladies_ ,” I sing quietly, not wanting to disturb anyone else in the house,” _farewell and adieu to you ladies of Spain for we have received orders to sail to Old England. We hope in a short time to see you again. We’ll rant and we’ll roar like true British sailors, we’ll rant and we’ll roar along the salt seas until we strike soundings in the Channel of Old England._ ” I trail off towards the middle, my wrist beginning to throb and protest whenever I moved it. Wincing, I try to massage the soreness out of it, even rotating it back and forth, but it's still tender and beginning to get stiff.

The glass doors of the parlor open suddenly, the soft blue curtains billowing out at the movement as Beckett and his mad dog walk inside followed by my apologetic maid, Diana. "I'm sorry, Miss," she says quickly," I couldn't stop them and Xander is out gathering groceries."

"It's alright," I say soothingly," go on back to what you were doing before these two showed up." She nods, doing as I instructed reluctantly, shooting Mercer and Beckett distrustful looks over her shoulder as she walks out. Once I was certain Diana had gone, I face the two intruders, standing with my hands on my hips. It's hard to look intimidating in sloppy pajamas and mis-matched fuzzy socks, but I like to think I pulled it off nicely. "Who the hell do you think you are? You can't go barging into people's homes like you own them!"

"I told you, Mercer," Beckett smiles, making himself comfortable in one of the chairs. "She has a fierce temper and a sharp tongue." The older man says nothing, standing behind the chair Beckett is sitting in with a disinterested expression. "I came by to inform you that you need to pack, you're to accompany us on the  _Endeavor_ for your own safety. I've heard from a reliable source that some of the more unpleasant occupants of Port Royal are planning to kidnap you while your husband and I are gone."

"Why would they want to kidnap me?"  _If he wants to use that excuse, then he'd better have a damn good reason why anyone would want to kidnap me, a woman that most men find unattractive and irritating at best._

"You are an Admiral's wife here and the miscreants know that I have an interest in you, which makes you worth more than most of the ladies. I'm sure they thought I would contribute to your ransom." He shrugs, his tone calm as he looks out one of the windows. "Dreary day, isn't it?" He sighs, shaking his head and moving his blue-grey eyes back to me. "I shall wait here until you're ready and then we'll go on to the docks where your husband should be making preparations."

"Fine, but if you steal anything from my house—"

"The only thing in this house I have an interest to steal is standing right in front of me," he interrupts coldly.

"Pervert." I motion to one of my other maids that didn't seem to be busy, the girl following after me and helping to pack the things I would need. I have no clue what you should pack to be on a ship for who knows how long, so Christine took care of almost everything. Once that's finished, Christine and Mercer manage to tie my trunk to the back of Beckett's carriage while the troll and I climb inside.

We ride in silence, each of us staring out our respective windows as lightning flashes overhead, followed by a loud crack of thunder before the rain began to fall. It's like the sky opened up and all the rain the clouds had been holding back is now coming down all at once. I massage my right wrist, cursing under my breath as the pain worsens with the weather.

It doesn’t take more than fifteen minutes to reach the docks, the water churning in the bad weather. The  _Endeavor_  is much larger than the _Pearl_ , done up in Navy colors of blue and gold and swarming with sailors. James must already be on board because I can't see him on the docks.

"Come along, Katherine, let's get inside quickly." No sooner than I was perched on the step of the carriage, Mercer had me over his shoulder and proceeded to carry me aboard the ship, taking me down a set of stairs and all the way to the brig.

"The hell is up with this," I shout as I'm plopped down onto a bench, Mercer exiting quickly and locking the door of my cell behind him. "Mercer!" I grab the bars, shaking with rage that Mercer and Beckett would lock me up a second time. "You useless bastard, let me out of here!" Beckett makes a  _tsk_ ing sound as he comes down the stairs, lips turned down in disappointment.

"Such foul language for a young woman to use. As to the reason of why you're locked down here, well, you're a pirate. We can't have your kind roaming freely aboard the ship." He looks me up and down with glee before leaving me to my own devices. With growl, I begin to pace, hair flowing freely down my back in tangles. I didn't even have time to change out of my pajamas and now my socks were soaked through with water.

"So much for these socks being lucky." Shaking my head, I keep pacing, muttering under my breath as my thoughts began to race. "Think like a pirate, think like a pirate, think, Kit. What would Jack do if he were in here?" My eyes are drawn to the bench and a slow smile makes its way onto my face. "Half-barrel hinges." I drag the bench over to the door, flipping it over and pinning the legs between a couple of the bars, moving to the end in order to lift it. "Will made this look so much easier." With one last huff and the last of my strength, I lever the bars off their hinges.

My cheeks are flushed and, even as tired as I am, I still give a little jump at my victory before I step over the bars and jog up the stairs through the belly of the ship until I'm on deck, constantly looking around in case I see Gillette, Mercer, or Beckett. They would just drag me back to the brig and post a guard outside the door in case I got out again. The crew doesn't pay me any attention as they go about their duties, leaving me to wander around the ship until I hear voices coming from one of the rooms.

"Where are you, Jamie," I grumble under my breath as I peer down both sides of the hallway. I press my ear against the wood, able to pick out Beckett's voice along with the Governor's.

"The Brethren Court know they face extinction," Beckett was saying. "All that remains for them to decide is where they'll make their final stand." The door opens suddenly and I find myself falling forward, saved from hitting the floor by my husband. "Katherine, how on earth—"

"As bad as it sounds, that's not the first jail cell I've broken out of."


	19. Frostbite

—Terasa—

Carl and I sit shivering next to Pintel and Ragetti, the cold making me ache in places I didn't even know  _could_  hurt. The ice had come out of nowhere about an hour ago, bergs making everyone wary. If we wind up hitting one of those, then we can kiss our slim chance of survival goodbye.  _I'll know firsthand how Jack felt when he became a popsicle for Rose and it's not something I’m looking forward to_.

"Why can't Tia just bring Jack back the same way she did Barbossa," Pintel asks bitterly, not noticing that the woman in question was just a few feet away and could hear everything.

"Because," Tia responds, walking over to us," Barbossa was only dead. Jack Sparrow is taken, body and soul, to a place not of death, but punishment. The worst fate a person can bring upon himself." All of our little group stare at the witch in awe and more than a little fear. "Stretching on forever." She leans towards us, making us lean back. "That's what awaits at Davey Jones' Locker." She walks away from us, pacing the ship even as more snow and ice collects around and on us.

"Why is the Sparrow family so damn difficult," I ask through gasps. Carl manages a stiff shrug, teeth chattering loudly against each other. My breath comes out in small white clouds, which might have entertained me at another time when death wasn't waiting just around the corner. It's not fun to pretend to be a dragon when you could die at any given second due to exposure. I wrap my arms around myself, rocking back and forth in an attempt to stay warm. Carl scoots closer until he's pressed against my side, his warmth nice but the stink of old sweat and God only knows what else making me gag. Sure, we'll probably die in a few hours, but would it kill the man to put on some deodorant?

"Nothing here is set," Will says in a quiet voice so as not to irritate the other pirates. "These can't be as accurate as modern charts." I look over at where Will is sitting, watching him study the map that Sao Feng had loaned us. He and Tai have been working on getting it in order since we set sail from Singapore, the circles never seeming to add up in the end, and I could tell he was growing frustrated. The charts were weird as hell, made up of bamboo circles that moved with pictures and words printed on each section. They were meant to line up to take the user to different places, but it's more complicated than a Rubik's Cube.

"Come on, darling," I soothe, moving to sit in his lap and enjoy our combined body heat. "If Sao Feng knew you were going to steal them, then I'm sure he would've loved to make things easier." He pokes me in the side and I giggle, playfully slapping him. “Hey, that’s cheating.”

“I learned it from you.” I smile and cuddle closer to him, laying my head on his shoulder and breathing in his familiar scent of leather and the sea. Will grins as well, one arm wrapped snugly around my waist. _If this is how Rose felt when she was with Jack, then I can see why she would jump out of the lifeboat to be with him_. Will stops fiddling when the words on either side of the chart connects to form a sentence. "Over the edge, over again. Sunrise sets, flash of green."  _Well, that's just maddeningly unhelpful_.

"Any of you pirates care to interpret that into something we can all understand?"

“It’s a myth Jack told me about,” Carl says with a faint trace of a smile. “A green flash is supposed to shoot right up into the sky at sunset. Some say it only happens when people come back from the dead.” His smile turns into a full grin when I make a noise of frustration, leaning back in his seat and bringing his knees up to his chest for more heat. "Anyway, it's supposed to be super rare, so take from it what you will."

"Awesome."

“If all goes right,” Barbie assures,” we’ll be seeing that green flash soon enough. And besides, getting to the land of the dead isn’t the real problem.” He takes hold of the wheel, steering the ship so we don't crash. "It's gettin' back." I roll my eyes at the dramatics, wondering if that was a class all pirates took or just the ones I've met so far because there seems to be a common theme here. With a sigh, I snuggle closer against my fiancé and smile when I feel him tighten his hold on me, his chin resting on the top of my head as he continues to study the map.

"Do y'all think Jack's gonna be sane when we pick him up?"

"When has Jack Sparrow ever been sane,” Will asks with a snort, fingers tracing patterns along my side. "Let's just hope that he hasn't lost what little sense he has left."

"So," Carl states confidently," we're screwed then."


	20. Over The Edge

—Katherine—

The first few days upon the  _Endeavor_  were as boring as I'd predicted they'd be, sailors milling about the ship as they did their jobs, occasional orders being shouted and echoed until the task was completed before it would start all over again. I spend most of the time in the rooms Jamie and I share, seated in a rocking chair by the window to look out at the blue waters with a book always close at hand.

On the second day, after a bout of sea sickness that left me too weak to do more than moan pathetically, Beckett's personal physician came to check on me and announced that I was three months along in a pregnancy, leaving me slack-jawed and Jamie grinning like a mad man. That was nearly four days ago now and I've been confined to quarters for my own safety as well as the baby's, but I assume part of the reason is to keep Beckett and I from having another screaming match in front of everybody. 

_Apparently breaking out of a jail cell is considered bad behavior here. Who knew?_

"What do you feel like hearing today, nugget," I ask, rubbing my slowly rounding belly with a fond smile. It was strange to think I had a tiny human in there, a little life that I had helped to create and I would raise with Jamie. "We finished  _Jane Eyre_  last night with your daddy's help—"

"Talking to yourself now, Mrs. Norrington," an amused voice inquires, following the soft  _click_  of my parlor door closing. I look over my shoulder at the man who'd just entered, smiling wider as I take in familiar dark hair that brushed the collar of his frock coat and bright blue eyes.

"To the baby, actually." Lord Nathaniel Riordan has recently become a companion on the journey, the two of us bonding over our mutual dislike of his cousin and a love of honey cakes. He was tall and lean and handsome in a dark sense, the only light parts of him being his pale skin and blue eyes; his nose was a bit long and thin, his mouth small, and his hair hanging loosely around his shoulders since he hated wigs and queues. Nate sits in the armchair across from me, his usual glass of brandy in hand.

"Have you thought up a lullaby for the little one yet?"

"Ah, I've been working on it, but remembering the words to the songs is going to be the tough part." He nods in understanding, blue eyes moving to my stomach with a smile tugging the corners of his mouth upward. It's strange to think someone who grew up in Beckett's family even knew how to smile without it being threatening, but Nate managed it wonderfully.

"My mother always said it was important to sing to the babies before they're born so they're used to your voice. I sang to my little girl every evening before my wife and I went to sleep."

"I bet you have a great singing voice." He makes a face, shaking his head a few times with a laugh.

"Cats complained for hours afterwards." I laugh along with him, finding it hard to believe since his speaking voice never failed to sound musical; it was deep and his lilting accent always made me think of Killian Jones in a way. "What did your mother sing to you?" He was just trying to help, I know that, but it still makes my good mood diminish a little.

"I don't know," I shrug, turning my gaze back to the window and watching as the dark clouds were slowly rolling in. "I was sent to my father once I was able to be away from my mother and my father doesn't like to talk about her much." My mother's dead for all I know, or somewhere close to that, but Jack almost always refused to speak about her. "My father used to hum sea shanties when I was small and he would tell me stories of the goddess Calypso whenever we sat close to the water."

"He sounds like a good man." I snort and send him a wry look, giving a curt shake of my head.

"Hardly, the man was a pirate most of his life and I would have been just like him had he not sent me away when he did."  _A few people could argue that I'm a soberer and sex deprived version all the same_. "I'm just glad my baby won't be raised like I was. My nugget will always be surrounded by loving people."

"What do you think it is?"

"I'm hoping for a little boy since they’re less dramatic, but I'd be happy no matter what." I'll look for ten toes and fingers, and everything else doesn't matter so long as he'll live a long life. "Jamie and I've already narrowed down the names we'll use, so at least we don't have to worry about that much."

"Oh yes?"

"Yeah, Anna and Benjamin are definitely the first names." I nod, still watching the waters outside, longing to feel the soft spray against my face like I had when we went after a kidnapped Terasa. That had been one of the best weeks of my life—the kidnapping and worry aside—I had free roam on the ship and my romance with Jamie was sparked to life, plus I got my best friend and brother back mostly unscathed. James never complained about what I wore when I was with him, never complained about me being in the way when I wandered around deck or when I would strike up conversations with the sailors. I'd just thought he didn't care, but he told me he was just enjoying the way my face had lit up in a smile when the men had told me of the families waiting for them back home.

Nate and I fall into a comfortable silence, both of us lost in our own thoughts. It was nice that we didn't have to keep a conversation going at all times, we could just sit like this and be entirely at ease. Well, as at ease as a person could be knowing that there was a man sleeping just two rooms away that would happily throw me in another cell.

The peaceful moment is broken when Mercer strides inside, his customary frown in place as he gives Nate and I a nod of his head. "Lord Riordan," he greets in his gruff Irish accent," Mrs. Norrington, Lord Beckett requests your presences on deck."

"Do I really have to get up?"

"Lord Beckett has commanded me to drag you there by your hair if need be." He looked prepared to do it too, the bastard. With a huff, I rise from the rocking chair and follow the men out of my room, taking a few turns and then going up a set of stairs before I'm finally able to breathe in fresh air. Beckett was standing at the railing, his back straight and his hands clasped behind him, chin raised like he owned everything.

"I hate it when he looks that smug, it never ends well." Nate makes a noise in agreement, smartly keeping quiet as we join his cousin. A gasp escapes me when I take in the mangled ship floating in pieces in front of us and a familiar pirate ship anchored a few yards from the wreckage.

"Hello again, Katherine," Beckett greets without even looking my way.

"How goes it, Shorty," I respond on pure instinct, disgust making my stomach turn as I think about what the people aboard that ship must have gone through. _Did they have to face the Kraken as well or was it Jones' guns that took them out?_ Rasa had written to me once she was safely away from Port Royal, she explained the way the tentacles had torn straight through the  _Pearl_  and men all the same, torn limbs, and sucked faces clean off, and if that wasn't bad enough, it had eaten my father whole. "Was this your doing, then?"

"Who else could have ordered this savagery," Nathaniel comments in a hard tone he only uses around his cousin, swallowing hard and turning his gaze to the shorter man beside me. If Beckett held any fear of his cousin, then he did a hell of a good job not showing it, blue meeting blue and twin mouths twisting into frowns. "Your father would be proud if he could see this, Cutler, you're turning out just like him." The words made hardly any sense to me, but Beckett looks like Nate had just shot him in the foot. A mixture of pain and rage contort his soft features into something terrible. Not even I have caused him to look like that before and I've basically called him everything but a white man.

"All of us will be boarding the  _Dutchman_ , so I suggest the two of you find a longboat," Beckett says in a tightly controlled voice, eyes never leaving Nate's. I look from one man to the other, trapped awkwardly in the middle with my hands at my sides, unable to move without bumping somebody.  _Man, this is worse than that time Carl passed out on me at a frat party and I was trapped in a bathtub for six hours_. The three of us stay like that for a good three minutes until Jamie noticed my predicament, crossing the deck and clearing his throat until all eyes were on him.

"If the two of you wouldn't mind," he states in his usual drawl," I would rather my wife not be stuck between two men that look ready to murder each other." Nate's cheeks color and he takes two large steps back, looking embarrassed about what had happened, and Beckett turns on his heel and stomps away. "Anything I should be concerned about, Lord Riordan?"

"Nothing at all," Nate assures him with one of his gentle smiles, turning his eyes to me. "I'm sorry you had to witness that, Mrs. Norrington, it was unbecoming of a gentleman."

"Funny," I snort, crossing my arms over my chest," there was only one of those during that conversation and he wasn't the short one." The three of us carefully move into one of the longboats farthest from His Shortness, joined soon after by Weatherby and Theodore before we're lowered to the water, Jamie and Theo taking up the oars and following the other boats to the crocodile machine—er,  _Flying Dutchman_.

The boat ride is mainly silent apart from the splashing of oars as they dip in and out of the waters, propelling us closer to fish-face and the rest of his ragtag bunch of morons. I keep in the back next to my adoptive father, my head resting on Weatherby's shoulder as I struggled to keep my eyes open. I've been feeling weird all day, like I just wanted to pass out, but an annoying sensation in the center of my chest kept me awake; it felt like someone had tied a rope around me and was pulling as hard as they could.

James sends me up the rope ladder first when we reach the other ship, climbing up behind me and then taking my hand in his before leading the to the main deck where Murtogg and Mullroy were stationed on either side of the door, their rifles held in shaking hands. "Steady men," James instructs with the firm tone he reserves for the men under his command, though it was softer than usual. He has a soft spot for those two goofs even if he denies it, but I can't say I blame him. "It'll be alright, Kit." The words were little more than a whisper, but they made my stomach stop doing flips.

I thought my first encounter with these fish people had been bad, but now we were in close contact and I could  _smell_  the fuckers; think rotting meat mixed with Pepé Le Pew and you'd be close. That combined with the constant rocking of the ship had my stomach acting up again and I cover my mouth and nose with a hand.

Jones pushes his way to the front, shouldering people out of the way until he's standing in front of James, my husband shifting so that I'm hidden behind his broad shoulders. "Go," Jones commands in a rough voice," all of you, and take that infernal thing with you. I will not have it on my ship!" He meant the chest that held his heart, the one Beckett had kept under lock and key until now.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Beckett says mockingly as he joins us with Mercer and his cousin following behind,” because I will. It seems to be the only way to ensure that this ship do as directed by the company." He gestures with his cane and James gives a curt nod, leading the two men holding the chest to one of the cabins that make up this ship. Unfortunately, that left me out in the open for Jones to see, the tentacles making up his beard clenching and unclenching like fists.

"Get that woman off my ship!”

"I'll leave when I feel like it, Squidward, and not a moment before that," I snarl at him, but the rest of my tirade is cut off by Nate putting a hand over my mouth and pulling me back with him behind Beckett.

“Enough, Katherine,” Beckett says with a stern look in my direction. Beckett turns to sneer up at Jones, completely unafraid despite the massive difference in height. Had he been more limber, Jones could probably whack Beckett in the head with his peg leg. “As for you, we need prisoners to interrogate and I’ve found that’s easiest to accomplish when they’re

"The  _Dutchman_ sails as its Captain commands," Jones says in a haughty tone, like he was the one in charge of this meeting.

"And its Captain is to sail it as commanded," Beckett returns, raising his voice to get his point across. “This is no longer your world, Jones. I thought you learned that when I ordered you to kill your pet.”

“Did you give those ships an opportunity to surrender,” Weatherby demands, stepping up beside Beckett as he glares up at the squid.

“We let them see us,” Jones remarks. “Isn’t that opportunity enough?” Jones and his crew laughed it off, thinking Weatherby to be a silly old man when he was really an infuriated parent.

“My ward could’ve been on any one of them and that alone should have been cause for restraint!” Jones rolls his eyes, stepping closer to Weatherby and ignoring the way everyone tensed up in return. If so much as lays a finger on that man, I’ll rip those tentacles off his face and a not a damn soul will be able to stop me.

“I am exterminating pirates as directed by the company. As for your precious ward, she was killed when my pet sunk the _Black Pearl_.” Even though I knew it was all a lie, had the letters to prove it, it still made my breath hitch in my throat. That had almost happened, _would_ have happened had Jack not returned to the ship. “I’m surprised Lord Beckett didn’t tell you that.”

“No…” Weatherby shakes his head, shocked rage making his cheeks a dark red. “No, Katherine would have told me.” He looks to me, frantic and shaking, and I give a slight shake of my head.

“He’s just being cruel,” I assure my adoptive father. “Rasa’s alive and she sends her love.” I turn my gaze to Jones now, stepping out of Nate’s hold on my arms. “Want to know a cool secret about this fish? His heart is in that pretty chest Beckett’s been carrying around.”

“Yes, I know that.” There’s a tremor in Weatherby’s voice that breaks my heart and I close my eyes for a moment. I haven’t heard from Terasa or Carl in nearly two weeks and it made me sick to my stomach with worry.

“Do you know what happens when you stab it?”

“Nothing either of you should concern yourselves with,” Beckett interrupts, moving to stand in front of me with his back towards Jones. “Young ladies should not be so inquisitive.”

“Then maybe make sure you’re not being eavesdropped on when you have your nightly meetings with your henchman.” He takes a moment to study me, trying to decide if I actually knew anything. It’s when his eyes narrow just the slightest bit and the fury darkens the irises that he realizes I do know and I wouldn’t hesitate to tell anyone who’d listen.

Beckett grasps my arm and pulls me away from the crew off to the side where we could talk without being overheard, looking ready to explode. “How could you eavesdrop? Mercer checked my office before we even began to talk.”

“If I told you, then you’d catch me next time.”

“You put your ear against my door, didn’t you?” Sitting just outside Beckett’s quarters with a glass held against the door might not be a normal thing by any standards, but it’s amazing what spite can motivate you to do. got me through school, that tattoo on my shoulder after that ninth shot of tequila, and now it’s given me some leverage over Short Round.

“What does it matter now? The way I see it, you can’t exactly remove the information from my head.”

"When I reclaim ownership, that attitude of yours will be the first thing to go."

"Should that ever happen, I'll take a page right out of the Lannister handbook and shoot you on the first night." I give a mocking bow before crossing to the other side of the deck where Theo was supervising the other sailors. Always a source of companionship, I knew I could count on the Lieutenant to keep me entertained for a little while.

"That looked pleasant," he remarks with a smile.

"Your sarcasm is very charming." We share a smile and I sit near him on the railing, stretching my legs out in front of me. "Is Jamie still busy in the Captain’s cabin?"

"Yes, Beckett's chosen him to guard the chest." I roll my eyes with a huff, making a point not to even look in Beckett's direction. There's no point in being surprised anymore, Beckett's tricks are obvious and annoying, but they’re manageable. "How are you feeling today, Kit?"

"Been better, but I have a bad feeling that I'm about to be called away." Theo glances around quickly before lowering his voice so that no one else would overhear our conversation as he asks me why. "It's the same feeling I always get when Carl summons me to his side, I think. He did it a lot in that other dimension, but it's even stronger here, like someone's tied a rope around my middle and is tugging as hard as they can."

"What happens to you when you're summoned?"

"I just disappear from where I am and show up at that other place, all fine and dandy like nothing unusual has happened at all." A wave of dizziness hits and I clutch at my head with a groan, my other hand blindly reaching out and grabbing the railing as I close my eyes. "Keep an eye on Jamie for me, Theo." There's a brief sensation of falling before my feet hit the deck, legs buckling under me and only a pair of strong arms saving me from meeting the wood face-first.

"Sorry, sis," came CJ's voice behind me as he helped me stand again," didn't mean to do it this time."

"No worries, I'll kick you for it when I don't feel so sick."  _About seven months or so until I can give him a nice bruise for this_. "Where the hell are we?" I look around in confusion, taking in the unfamiliar ship and the darkness surrounding us. _How in the hell is it this dark when I just left freaking sunshine behind two seconds ago?_

"We're good and lost," a familiar voice states confidently on my left, making me turn and face the same pirate that had marooned my family on a damn island three years ago.

"Why in the hell is the Marquis de Sade steering the boat around and getting us lost, Carl Jason? He was  _dead_  the last time you talked to me!"

"What a surprise, a pirate that lies to everybody. As for the reason of being lost, it's the only way to find the place that can't be found." Carl, Rasa, and I share concerned looks, all three of us latching onto the closest object as the ship's movements increase.

"Would you all shut it," exclaims Gibbs. "We're speeding up!"

"Aye, that we are!"

"To your stations," Will commands.

"Belay that, let her keep going straight and true!" My stomach drops when I see where we’re headed. It looked like the edge of a waterfall, except this one stretched on either side as far as the eye could see.

"Let me guess," I state in near panic," we're about to go over a huge waterfall."

"Yep," Carl nods, catching onto the once in a lifetime opportunity. If I’m going to die a horrible death, then, by God, I’m doing it in style. It’s just too bad I can’t poof myself places, somewhere far from here and preferably on actually fucking land instead of another ship.

"Sharp rocks at the bottom?”

"Most likely."

"Bring it on." The ship tips over and begins a fall into blackness, water rushing around us and drowning out my scream of terror. The entire ship is tilted up, my feet leaving the ground and my shoulders aching from the strain of keeping ahold of the railing. And then, just as suddenly as the plunge had happened, we've hit water and blinding sunshine is bathing us all in an uncomfortable warmth.

With a scowl, I flick my hair over my shoulder and begin to doggy-paddle as well as I’m able to. I could make out a beach that wasn’t too far away, the sand a bright white color like someone had come through and bleached it. Coughing up water, I crawl onto the beach and collapse on my stomach with a groan. Carl and Rasa fall next to me, breathing hard and looking as exhausted as I feel.

“This place fucking blows.”


	21. An Unconventional Family

—Terasa—

“We’re in a friggin’ desert,” I mutter, standing up on shaky legs. “Why the hell are we in a friggin’ desert?” In front of us was miles and miles of white sand while a sea took up the space behind us. There were no trees to shade us from the exhausting heat or even a cactus as decoration, just that white sand that got everywhere.

“Because we have a staggering amount of bad luck,” Carl remarks as he sits up. He winces, pulling at his soaked shirt from where it’d stuck to his skin. “Does anyone see the idiot that I’m forced to claim as my father?”

“No,” Barbie says,” but he’s around here somewhere.” Little Jack settles himself on Barbossa’s shoulder, screeching and playing with the buttons on his tiny vest. He was a pretty cool monkey, though the screeching tended to get annoying at three in the damn morning. “Davy Jones isn’t one to give up what he takes without a fight.”

“It’s Jack, Barbie, spend more than five hours with him and tell me you wouldn’t boot his ass on outta here.”

“Last time I did that, I ended up a skeleton for the better part of eight years.”

“Yeah, but Davy’s already got a face only a mother could love, so he really doesn’t have much to lose.”

“None of that matters now,” Will snaps, mouth fixed into an irritated frown. “We’re trapped here just like Jack thanks to our supposed Captain.” With a frown of my own, I kick at a white rock and let out a little yelp when it begins to crawl. No, it wasn’t a rock, it was a fucking _crab_. Great, now I won’t even be able to get any sleep here because all I’ll be able to think about is how a crab could pinch my ass at any given moment.

“Witty Jack is closer than you think,” Tia says with a smile, one of the crab-rock mutations in her hand. The smile wasn’t a comforting one, almost sinister as she showed off her blackened teeth. It wasn’t five seconds after that when we all caught a glimpse of rolled up sails and the mast of a ship cresting one of the dunes.

“Aww, isn’t that thing cute,” Katherine says, completely oblivious as she picks up a crab to pet. Carl rolls his eyes and knocks it out of her hand before grasping her chin and turning her head towards the ship heading our way. The ship was fire-blackened and such a welcome sight that I would’ve whooped for joy had I not been so shocked to see it as it slid past us and into the water.

“Boat,” Ragetti manages, pointing after it in startled fascination.

“At least I know where I get my dramatic streak from.” Jack climbs into a longboat and makes his way back to the shore, swaying on his feet in a way that would make anyone who didn’t know him think he was drunk.

“Mister Gibbs,” he calls out in an authoritative tone, making his way over to us with a stern set to his jaw. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him look so in charge, it was almost alien on his face. There was no smile there, barely any recognition, and I could see part of his skin peeling from a sunburn.

“Aye, sir,” Gibbs asks, instinctively standing at attention.

“I thought so. Would you care to account for your actions?”

“Sir?”

“There has been a perpetual and virulent lack of discipline aboard my vessel. Why is that, sir?” Carl and I share a look before our gazes settle back on the man we came to rescue. Has he gone completely bonkers? I mean, he was nuts before, but this is something else altogether.

“Uh, Captain, I don’t think we’re where you think we are.” Gibbs narrows his eyes the slightest bit and leans in closer. “We’re in Davy Jones’ Locker.” Jack’s dark eyes widen like he’d just received an epiphany, only adding to the overall crazed look.

“Of course I know that, I’m not an idiot.”

“That’s certainly up for debate,” Barbossa mutters under his breath. Jack heard him all the same, turning to face him with a smile of recognition.

“Hector! It’s been far too long, mate.”

“I believe it was Isla de Muerta. You shot me.”

“Well, you were being a dick,” Katherine interjects. “I probably would’ve shot you too if you’d just marooned me for the second time and then tried to kill a shit ton of people.” Jack doesn’t seem to notice his daughter, his gaze sliding over to Tia. She looks hurt, but quickly schools her features into a mask of happy deviousness that she so often wears. _How often in that other realm did we all wear similar masks, pretending we fit in when we actually felt isolated?_

“Tia Dalma,” Jack greets with a near manic smile. “Finally out of that hut, eh? You add a sense of the macabre wherever you go.”

“Please tell me he doesn’t think we’re all in his head.” Jack finally turns to face her, the smile softening into something genuine. That looked more natural, the way his gaze became focused and his fingers twitched like he wanted to touch her and make sure she was real, but was afraid she’d turn into ash and blow away.

“Katherine, does your beloved hubby need rescuing?”

“Not last time I checked, but the day is young.”

“And, Will, are you still too timid to tell your bonny lass how you feel?”

“No,” Will says, reaching out a hand to lace his fingers with mine. His touch was warm and gentle despite the callouses littering his palms from hard labor. “No, she and I are fine.”

“Then unless my son has some issue he’d like to throw in, none of you should be here.” He sends a look in Carl’s direction, continuing when the other man gives a shake of his head. “So you see? None of you are actually here and this’ll be a fond memory when the next hallucination starts up.” He leans towards me and I can smell the rum on his breath even though he’s been dry for at least a month. “The last one was crabs and it was far less pleasant than it sounds.”

“No doubt,” I reply, taking half a step back. “Kit, you wanna do the honors?” The brunette grins and moves closer to Jack in order to step on his booted foot as hard as she could, twisting her heel against his toes to really drive the point home.

“Ow, fuck, okay! You’re here, you’re here!” He grabs at his ankle and hops in place for a moment, bottom lip stuck out in a childish pout. “You’re not getting a birthday present now, Kitty.”

“Remind me to cry over that later,” she mutters, rolling her eyes. “In the meantime, how about we all get on the goddamn boat before we die from heat exposure?”

“So…. The Locker, then?”

“Yup,” I confirm with a nod. “We’re your rescue party.”

“Hard to believe considering you’re the reason why I’m here. Besides, I only see one ship, _my ship_ , so wouldn’t I be the rescuer in this situation? Not that I’d take you with me after what you did with that horrible beastie.”

“Leave me here and you’ll have to deal with Katherine annoying you for the rest of your life.” He glances at his daughter and she purses her lips, arms crossed over her chest. “I may have caused your death, but I also kept your son alive.”

“Jack,” Katherine says, grabbing the sleeve of his shirt and hauling him around to face her. “You let all of us onto your ship without another complaint and I’ll name your grandchild after you.”

“Thank you, Kit.” I shoot Jack a smile, but then my brows knit together and I look back at my friend. “Wait, what?”

“Oh, by the way, I got knocked up about three months ago.”

“You,” Jack starts, tripping over his words like he couldn’t figure out which was best,” but… T-that’s- no…” He shakes his head, giving his daughter a dumbfounded look. I imagine it’s the same look I’m giving her, but that’s anyone’s guess at this point. “You can’t be pregnant, you’re still a baby!”

“I’m twenty-seven, but thanks for keeping track.”

“Oh, my God, we’ve gotta get you out of here. I’m not having my grandchild raised in a place where crabs steal a man’s ship. C’mon.” He latches onto Kit’s and Carl’s arms, practically dragging them towards the longboat he’d left behind five minutes ago. “The rest of you get a move on! I need a crew to get back to the land of the living so I can kick Commodore Norrington’s royal ass!”

“He’s actually an Admiral now.”

“He’ll be comatose when I get through with him! Did you just come all this way to give me the good news?”

“Fuck no, I’m not that attached to you.”

“We came all this way because Cutler Beckett controls the seas now,” Will explains as we all hurry after the loony pirate. “Norrington gave him the heart in exchange for safety in Port Royal.”

“The song has been sung,” Tia adds. “The Brethren Court is called.” Jack finally stops, everyone gathering around him in order to fill him in. “It’s your duty as a Captain to show up and represent the _Pearl_.”

“I knew you couldn’t trust Navy men,” Jack says, then turns to face everyone while talking even louder. “Didn’t I say you couldn’t trust Navy men? My daughter marries the bastard and how does he thank her? By giving Cutler bloody Beckett the most powerful heart in the world!” His gaze lands on the Chinese crew that came with us, head tilted to the side. “Who the hell are you?”

“Tai Huang,” the leader introduces,” and these are my men.”

“Are you any good at sailing?”

“Would your friends there have chosen us if we weren’t?”

“That depends, my daughter has no idea how ships or crews work, my son is still catching up on the basics, and the old fart with the ugly beard is a backstabbing twat who couldn’t tell up from down on a good day. Lucky for you, I need any competent sailors I can get my hands on in order to get out of this godforsaken place, so welcome aboard.” He turns on his heel and climbs into the longboat, snapping his fingers impatiently until a small group had joined him. “Mister Gibbs, take us to the ship and then you can come back for the others.”

“Aye, Cap’n,” Gibbs says, more than used to taking orders. It only takes three trips for everyone to get on the _Pearl_ , Kit finding a comfortable spot near the railing with her brother following after her. They would have a lot to talk about considering the bomb she’d dropped a few minutes ago. I’ll catch her later tonight and gush over the good news, maybe even pry some baby names out of her.

In the meantime, there were other things to keep me occupied, the biggest being Barbie and Jack throwing out orders and just generally getting in each other’s way. I’ve seen Jack and Barbossa argue before, I’ve seen them sword fighting before, but all those times were way less annoying than what they were doing now. It wouldn’t have been so bad had it been real fighting, but this is just Jack repeating everything Barbie says and then arguing over who’s Captain and who’s not. I was about ready to get up and knock their heads together when Pintel beat me to it.

“That’s enough,” he shouts, shocking the two men into silence. “You’re both supposed to be grown men and I’ll have no more of this childish squabbling! Understand?” That’s about when Pintel realized the shock was giving way to frustrated anger and both men were giving him identical looks of _back the fuck off_ , Pintel giving a nervous, toothy grin. "Just thought I'd throw in my name for Captain, sorry." As he steps off to the side, Jack and Barbossa make a beeline for the wheel, trying to bump each other out of the way.

“I’d vote for ya,” Ragetti says, soothing the tension building up in his friend’s shoulders.

“Really?”

“So would I,” I add on, raising my hand a little. “You’re one of the few people here that don’t make me want to throw things.”

It was dark by the time I was able to make it to the cabin Kit and I would be sharing, the other woman already in bed with a book propped up on her knees. She makes a noise of greeting, but doesn’t look away from the yellowed pages, chewing absently on her thumbnail.

“Hey to you, too,” I remark with a smile, dropping down on my bed. It wasn’t the most comfortable bed in the world, but it was familiar and the pillow smelled like coconuts for some weird reason.

“You gonna give me a long-winded speech about how pregnancy and piracy don’t mix?”

“Would it do any good?”

“Probably not.”

“Didn’t think so.” I smile and look over at her again, barely able to see the slight swell of her stomach beneath the material of her nightgown. “Does James know?”

“We found out together on the _Endeavor_.” She runs a hand over her belly with a fond smile of her own. “We’re thinking Anna for a girl and Benjamin for a boy.”

“Those are great names, Kit.”

“What about you and Will? Think of any names for your future babies?”

“Right now, we’re mainly focused on actually making it through our wedding. Beckett ruined the first one we planned, the second one was interrupted by a gaggle of soldiers, the third was done in because the priest was drunk, and our last attempt was put on hold because Will was chosen to go get the charts from Sao Feng.”

“How’d that turn out anyway?”

“Oh, he was caught.” I nod matter-of-factly, remembering the worry that had gnawed at me, the terror of realizing he could’ve died at Sao’s hand. “He’s not the best at avoiding trouble, but he does try from time to time.”

“With disastrous results, I’m afraid,” Will says as he comes into the room, a friendly smile in place. That’s what I loved the most about him, how he’s able to smile despite our bad circumstances. It made his brown eyes light up and it’s what keeps me going most days. “Is it alright if I sleep in here tonight? I wouldn’t ask normally, but Carl snores.”

“Sounds kind of like a drunk walrus, doesn’t he,” Kit giggles, gesturing for Will to come in fully.

“So that’s what it is. I’ve been trying to decide on the proper way to describe that awful sound for the past month with no success.” He laughs softly as he drops down on my bed, letting out a tired groan when his head hits the pillow. “Why does it smell like coconuts in here?”

“I was wondering that, too.”

“Same here,” I say with a slight frown. “Do you think Jack hoarded coconuts at some point and the milk got spilled in here?”

“He doesn’t strike me as the type to hoard much of anything except rum.” I hum a response, scooting over so that Will can lay on his back and I can snuggle up next to him with my head over his heart. The steady beating, while comforting, also served as a reminder of why we had to come on this mission in the first place. If we had snatched Davy Jones’ heart, then I would probably be married by now, Carl would still be snoring in some ship, and Kit would be safe in her house. “I’ll ask him in the morning, though.”

Kit sets her book aside and leans over to blow out the lone candle when a heavy _thud_ is heard out on deck, followed shortly after by another. I can feel Will go tense beneath me, confirming that I wasn’t just imagining things. With a swiftness that came after several months trying to stay alive, the three of us are out of bed and almost sprinting out the door of the cabin to find the source.

“What happened,” Will demands,” what’s wrong?” Pintel, Ragetti, and Tia were all gathered near the railing and the balding pirate nods towards the water. He and his friend look suitably chastised and Tia looked less than pleased, two small cannonballs on the deck by their feet. “What have you two done now?” Together, the three of us move to look into the water, eyes widening in shock at what we find. Pale, wispy shapes of people were floating just beneath the surface, looking like the ghosts from Return of the King.  "That's something you don't see every day.”

“What are they,” I ask, furrowing my brows as I lean further over the railing in an attempt to see them better.

“They are souls,” Tia answers, the bitterness in her voice taking me by surprise. “They are them that died on the seas. Davy Jones should have ferried them to the other side.” I look at her over my shoulder, seeing the way her dark eyes were shining with unshed tears. She wouldn’t cry over fish face, she was too proud for that, but there was something that had existed between the two of them. _She loves him and she’s ashamed of what he’s become_.

“No offense or anything, but he sucks at his job.”


End file.
